


H 







v 









Book__ 




DS^E3B^E3l 



>rar£. 



s^s^^i^g 







7 



c-^ 



A TRIP TO CUBA 



BY 
Mrs. JULIA WARD HOWE. 



BOSTON: 
TICKNOR AND FIELDS 

M DCCC LX. 






DEC l 1899 
-{B ft /> B ^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 

TlCKNOR AND FIELDS, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



By Lianafe* 




CT 9 1915 






> 



RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 

H. 0. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 



CHAP. 

I. THE DEPARTURE 1 

II. NASSAU 10 

III. FROM NASSAU TO CUBA 20 

IV. THE HARBOR OF HAVANA 30 

V. HAVANA — THE HOTELS 40 

VI. HAVANA — YOUR BANKER — OUR CONSUL 

— THE FRIENDLY CUP OF TEA 48 

VII. HAVANA — THE JESUIT COLLEGE 57 

VIII. SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS 66 

IX. THE MORRO FORTRESS—THE UNIVERSITY 

OF HAVANA — THE BENEFICENZA 79 

X. CAN GRANDE'S DEPARTURE — THE DOMINICA 

— LOTTERY-TICKETS 94 

XI. COMPANY AT THE HOTEL — SERVANTS — 

OUR DRIVE — DON PEPE HI 

XII. MATANZAS 132 

XIII. THE PASEO — THE PLAZA — DINING OUT--. 145 

XIV. GAME-CHICKENS — DON RODRIGUEZ — DAY 

ON THE PLANTATION — DEPARTURE 157 

XV. RETURN TO HAVANA— SAN ANTONIO AGAIN 177 



iv CONTENTS. 

CHAP. PAGE 

XVI. SAN ANTONIO — CHURCH ON SUNDAY — THE 

NORTHER THE S. FAMILY 190 

XVII. EDUCATION LAST NIGHT IN SAN ANTONIO 

FAREWELL 202 

XVIII. SLAVERY CUBAN SLAVE LAWS, INSTITU- 
TIONS, ETC. 212 

XIX. FAREWELL ! 238 



A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE DEPARTURE. 



Why one leaves home at all is a question 
that travellers are sure, sooner or later, to 
ask themselves, — I mean, pleasure-travellers. 
Home, where one has the " Transcript " ev- 
ery night, and the " Autocrat " every month, 
opera, theatre, circus, and good society, in 
constant rotation, — home, where everybody 
knows us, and the little good there is to know 
about us, — finally, home, as seen regretfully 
for the last time, with the gushing of long 
frozen friendships, the priceless kisses of chil- 
dren, and the last sad look at dear baby's pale 
face through the window-pane, — well, all this 
is left behind, and we review it as a dream, 
while the railroad-train hurries us along to the 
spot where we are to leave, not only this, but 
1 



2 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

Winter, rude tyrant, with all our precious 
hostages in his grasp. Soon the swift motion 
lulls our brains into the accustomed muddle. 
We seem to be dragged along like a miserable 
thread pulled through the eye of an everlast- 
ing needle, — through and through, and never 
through, — while here and there, like painful 
knots, the depots stop us, the poor thread is 
arrested for a minute, and then the pulling 
begins again. Or, in another dream, we are 
like fugitives threading the gauntlet of the 
grim forests, while the ice-bound trees essay a 
charge of bayonets on either side ; but, under 
the guidance of our fiery Mercury, we pass 
them as safely as ancient Priam passed the 
outposts of the Greeks, — and New York, hos- 
pitable as Achilles, receives us in its mighty 
tent. Here we await the " Karnak," the Brit- 
ish Mail Company's new screw-steamer, bound 
for Havana, via Nassau. At length comes the 
welcome order to " be on board." We betake 
ourselves thither, — the anchor is weighed, the 
gun fired, and we take leave of our native land 
with a patriotic pang, which soon gives place 
to severer spasms. 



THE DEPARTURE. 3 

I do not know why all celebrated people 
who write books of travels begin by describing 
their days of sea-sickness. Dickens, George 
Combe, Fanny Kemble, Mrs. Stowe, Miss 
Bremer, and many others, have opened in 
like manner their valuable remarks on foreign 
countries. While intending to avail myself 
of their privilege and example, I would never- 
theless suggest, for those who may come after 
me, that the subject of sea-sickness should 
be embalmed in science, and enshrined in the 
crypt of some modern encyclopaedia, so that 
future writers should refer to it only as the 
Pang Unspeakable, for which vide Ripley and 
Dana, vol. , page . But, as I have already 
said, I shall speak of sea-sickness in a hurried 
and picturesque manner, as follows : — 

Who are these that sit by the long dinner- 
table in the forward cabin, with a most un- 
usual lack of interest in the bill of fare? 
Their eyes are closed, mostly, their cheeks are 
pale, their lips are quite bloodless, and to ev- 
ery offer of good cheer, their " No, thank you," 
is as faintly uttered as are marriage- vows by 
maiden lips. Can they be the same that, an 



4 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

hour ago, were so composed, so jovial, so full 
of dangerous defiance to the old man of the 
sea ? The officer who carves the roast-beef 
offers at the same time a slice of fat ; — this is 
too much ; a panic runs through the ranks, 
and the rout is instantaneous and complete. 
The ghost of what each man was disappears 
through the trap-door of his state-room, and 
the hell which the theatre faintly pictures 
behind the scenes begins in good earnest. 

For to what but to Dante's " Inferno " can 
we liken this steamboat-cabin, with its double 
row of pits, and its dismal captives? What 
are these sighs, groans, and despairing noises, 
but the alti guai rehearsed by the poet ? Its 
fiends are the stewards who rouse us from our 
perpetual torpor with offers of food and praises 
of shadowy banquets, — "Nice mutton-chop, 
Sir ? roast-turkey ? plate of soup ? " Cries 
of " No, no ! " resound, and the wretched turn 
again, and groan. The Philanthropist has lost 
the movement of the age, — keeled up in an 
upper berth, convulsively embracing a blanket, 
what conservative more immovable than he ? 
The Great Man of the party refrains from his 



THE DEPARTURE. O 

large theories, which, like the circles made by 
the stone thrown into the water, begin some- 
where and end nowhere. As we have said, 
he expounds himself no more, the significant 
forefinger is down, the eye no longer im- 
prisons yours. But if you ask him how he 
does, he shakes himself as if, like Farina- 

ta, — 

" avesse 1' inferno in gran dispetto," — 

" he had a very contemptible opinion of hell." 
Let me not forget to add, that it rains every 
day, that it blows every night, and that it rolls 
through the twenty-four hours till the whole 
world seems as if turned bottom upwards, 
clinging with its nails to chaos, and fearing to 
launch away. The Captain comes and says, 
— "It is true you have a nasty, short, chop- 
ping sea hereabouts ; but you see, she is spin- 
ning away down South jolly ! " And this is 
the Gulf- Stream! 

But all things have an end, and most things 
have two. After the third day, a new devel- 
opment manifests itself. Various shapeless 
masses are carried up-stairs and suffered to fall 
like snow-flakes on the deck, and to lie there 



6 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

in shivering heaps. From these larvae gradu- 
ally emerge features and voices, — the lunch- 
eon-bell at last stirs them with the thrill of 
returning life. They look up, they lean up, 
they exchange pensive smiles of recognition, 
— the Steward comes, no fiend this time, but 
a ministering angel ; and lo ! the strong man 
eats broth, and the weak woman clamors for 
pickled oysters. And so ends my description 
of our sea-sickness. 

For, as for betraying the confidences of 
those sad days, as for telling how wofully 
untrue Professors of Temperance were to 
their principles, how the Apostle of Total 
Abstinence developed a brandy-flask, not al- 
together new, what unsuccessful tipplings 
were attempted in the desperation of nausea, 
and for what lady that stunning brandy- 
smasher was mixed, — as for such tales out 
of school, I would have you know that I am 
not the man to tell them. 

Yet a portrait or so lingers in my mental 
repository ; — let me throw them in, to close 
off the lot. 

No. 1. A sober Bostonian in the next state- 



THE DEPARTURE. 7 

room, whose assiduity with his sea-sick wife 
reminds one of Cock-Robin, in the days when 
he sent Jenny Wren sops and wine. This per- 
son was last seen in a dressing-gown, square- 
cut night-cap, and odd slippers, dancing up 
and down the state-room floor with a cup of 
gruel, making wild passes with a spoon at an 
individual in a berth, who never got any of the 
contents. Item, the gruel, in a moment of ex- 
citement, finally ran in a stream upon the floor, 
and was wiped up by the Steward. Result 
not known, but disappointment is presumable. 
No. 2. A stout lady, imprisoned by a board 
on a sofa nine inches wide, called by a face- 
tious friend " The Coffin." She complains 
that her sides are tolerably battered in ; — we 
hold our tongues, and think that the board, 
too, has had a hard time of it. Yet she is 
a jolly soul, laughing at her misfortunes, and 
chirruping to her baby. Her spirits keep up, 
even when her dinner won't keep down. Her 
favorite expressions are " Good George ! " and 
" Oh, jolly ! " She does not intend, she says, 
to lay in any dry goods in Cuba, but means 
to eat up all the good victuals she comes 



8 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

across. Though seen at present tinder unfa- 
vorable circumstances, she inspires confidence 
as to her final accomplishment of this re- 
sult. 

No. 3. A woman, said to be of a literary- 
turn of mind, in the miserablest condition 
imaginable. Her clothes, flung at her by the 
Stewardess seem to have hit in some places, 
and missed in others. Her listless hands oc- 
casionally make an attempt to keep her dra- 
peries together, and to pull her hat on her 
head ; but though the intention is evident, 
she accomplishes little by her motion. She 
is perpetually being lugged about by a stout 
steward, who knocks her head against both 
sides of the vessel, folds her up in the gang- 
way, spreads her out on the deck, and takes 
her up-stairs, down-stairs, and in my lady's 
chamber, where, report says, he feeds her with 
a spoon, and comforts her with such philoso- 
phy as he is master of. N. B. This woman, 
upon the first change of weather, rose like a 
cork, dressed like a Christian, and toddled 
about the deck in the easiest manner, sipping 
her grog, and cutting sly jokes upon her late 



THE DEPASTURE. 9 

companions in misery, — is supposed by some 
to have been an impostor, and, when ill-treat- 
ed, announced intentions of writing a book. 

No. 4, my last, is only a sketch; — circum- 
stances allowed no more. Can Grande, the 
great dog, has been got up out of the pit, 
where he worried the Stewardess and snapped 
at the friend who tried to pat him on the head. 
Everybody asks where he is. " Don't you 
see that heap of shawls yonder, lying in the 
sun, and heated up to about 212° Fahren- 
heit ? That slouched hat on top marks the 
spot where his head should lie, — by tread- 
ing cautiously in the opposite direction you 
may discover his feet. All between is per- 
fectly passive and harmless. His chief food 
is pickles, — his only desire is rest. After 
all these years of controversy, after all these 
battles, bravely fought and nobly won, you 
might write with truth upon this moveless 
mound of woollens the pathetic words from 
Pere la Chaise : — Implora Pace. 

But no more at present, for land is in sight, 
and in my next you shall hear how we found 
it, and what we saw at Nassau. 



10 A TEIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER II. 



NASSAU. 



Nassau looked very green and pleasant to 
us after our voyage; — the eyes enjoy a little 
fresh provision after so long a course of salt 
food. The first view of land is little more 
than " the feeling of the thing," — it is matter 
of faith, rather than of sight. You are shown 
a dark and distant line, near the horizon, with- 
out color or features. They say it is land, and 
you believe it. But you come nearer and 
nearer, — you see first the green of vegetation, 
then the form of the trees, — the harbor at 
last opens its welcome arms, — the anchor is 
dropped, — the gun fired, — the steam snuffed 
out. Led by a thread of sunshine, you have 
walked the labyrinth of the waters, and all 
their gigantic dangers lie behind you. 

We made Nassau at twelve o'clock, on the 
sixth day from our departure, counting the first 



NASSAU. 11 

as one. The earliest feature discernible was 
a group of tall cocoa-nut trees, with which the 
island is bounteously feathered ; — the second 
was a group of negroes in a small boat, steer- 
ing towards us with open-mouthed and white- 
toothed wonder. Nothing makes its simple 
impression upon the mind sophisticated by- 
education. The negroes, as they came nearer, 
suggested only Christy's Minstrels, of whom 
they were a tolerably faithful imitation, — 
while the cocoa-nut trees transported us to 
the Boston in Ravel-time, and we strained 
our eyes to see the wonderful ape, Jocko, 
whose pathetic death, nightly repeated, used 
to cheat the credulous Bostonians of time, 
tears, and treasure. Despite the clumsiest 
management, the boat soon effected a junc- 
tion with our gangway, allowing some name- 
less official to come on board, and to go 
through I know not what mysterious and 
indispensable formality. Other boats then 
came, like a shoal of little fishes around the 
carcass of a giant whale. There were many 
negroes, together with whites of every grade ; 
and some of our number, leaning over the 



12 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

side, saw for the first time the raw material 
out of which Northern Humanitarians have 
spun so fine a skein of compassion and sym- 
pathy. 

Now we who write, and they for whom we 
write, are all orthodox upon this mighty ques- 
tion. We have all made our confession of 
faith in private and in public ; we all, on suit- 
able occasions, walls; up and apply the match 
to the keg of gunpowder which is to blow 
up the Union, but which, somehow, at the 
critical moment, fails to ignite. But you must 
allow us one heretical whisper, — very small 
and low. The negro of the North is an ideal 
negro ; it is the negro refined by white culture, 
elevated by white blood, instructed even by 
white iniquity ; — the negro among negroes 
is a coarse, grinning, flat-footed, thick-skulled 
creature, ugly as Caliban, lazy as the laziest 
of brutes, chiefly ambitious to be of no use to 
any in the world. View him as you will, his 
stock in trade is small ; — he has but the tan- 
gible instincts of all creatures, — love of life, 
of ease, and of offspring. For all else, he 
must go to school to the white race, and his 



NASSAU. 13 

discipline must be long and laborious. Nas- 
sau, and all that we saw of it, suggested to us 
the unwelcome question whether compulsory 
labor be not better than none. But as a ques- 
tion I gladly leave it, and return to the simple 
narration of what befell. 

There was a sort of eddy at the gangway 
of our steamer, made by the conflicting tides 
of those who wanted to come on board and of 
those who wanted to go on shore. We were 
among the number of the latter, but were 
stopped and held by the button by one of the 
former, while those more impatient or less 
sympathizing made their way to the small 
boats which waited below. The individual 
in question had come alongside in a handsome 
barge, rowed by a dozen stout blacks, in the 
undress uniform of the Zouaves. These men, 
well drilled and disciplined, seemed of a differ- 
ent sort from the sprawling, screaming creat- 
ures in the other boats, and their bright red 
caps and white tunics became them well. But 
he who now claimed my attention was of Brit- 
ish birth and military profession. His face was 
ardent, his pantaloons were of white flannel, 



14 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

his expression of countenance was that of 
habitual discontent, but with a twinkle of 
geniality in the eye which redeemed the 
Grumbler from the usual tedium of his tribe. 
He accosted us as follows : — 

" Go ashore ? What for ? To see some- 
thing, eh ? There's nothing to see ; the island 
isn't bigger than a nut-shell, and doesn't con- 
tain a single prospect. — Go ashore and get 
some dinner ? There isn't anything to eat 
there. — Fruit? None to speak of; sour or- 
anges and green bananas. — I went to market 
last Saturday, and bought one cabbage, one 
banana, and half a pig's head ; — there's a 
market for you ! — Fish ? Oh, yes, if you 
like it. — Turtle ? Yes, you can get the Gal- 
lipagos turtle ; it makes tolerable soup, but 
has not the green fat, which, in my opinion, 
is the most important feature in turtle-soup. 
— Shops ? You can't buy a pair of scissors 
on the island, nor a baby's bottle; — broke 
mine the other day, and tried to replace it; 
couldn't. — Society ? There are lots of peo- 
ple to call upon you, and bore you to death 
with returning their visits." 



NASSAU. 15 

At last the Major went below, and we broke 
away, and were duly conveyed to terra firma. 
It was Sunday, and late in the afternoon. 
The first glimpse certainly seemed to confirm 
the Major's disparaging statements. The 
town is small; the houses dingy and out of 
repair ; the legend, that paint costs nothing, 
is not received here ; and whatever may have 
been the original colors of the buildings, the 
climate has had its own way with them for 
many a day. The barracks are superior in 
finish to anything else we see. Government- 
House is a melancholy-looking caserne, sur- 
rounded by a piazza, the grounds being 
adorned with a most chunky and inhuman 
statue of Columbus. All the houses are sur- 
rounded by verandas, from which pale children 
and languid women in muslins look out, and 
incline us to ask what epidemic has visited the 
island and swept the rose from every cheek. 
They are a pallid race, the Nassauese, and 
retain little of the vigor of their English an- 
cestry. One English trait they exhibit, — the 
hospitality which has passed into a proverb; 
another, perhaps, — the stanch adherence to 



16 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

the forms and doctrines of Episcopacy. We 
enter the principal church; — they are just 
lighting it for evening service ; it is hung 
with candles, each burning in a clear glass 
shade. The walls and ceiling are white- 
washed, and contrast prettily with the dark 
timbering of the roof. We would gladly have 
staid to give thanks for our safe and prosper- 
ous voyage, but a black rain-cloud warns us 
homeward, — not, however, until we have re- 
ceived a kind invitation from one of the hos- 
pitable Islanders to return the next morning 
for a drive and breakfast. 

Returning soon after sunrise to fulfil this 
promise, we encounter the barracks, and are 
tempted to look in and see the Sons of Dark- 
ness performing their evolutions. The morn- 
ing drill is about half over. We peep in, — 
the Colonel, a lean Don Quixote on a leaner 
E-osinante, dashes up to us with a weak at- 
tempt at a canter ; he courteously invites us to 
come in and see all that is to be seen, and lo ! 
our friend the Major, quite gallant in his 
sword and scarlet jacket, is detailed for our ser- 
vice. The soldiers are black, and very black, 



NASSAU. 17 

— none of your dubious American shades, 
ranging from clear salmon to cafe au lait or 
even to cafe noir. These are your good, sat- 
isfactory, African sables, warranted not to 
change in the washing. Their Zouave cos- 
tume is very becoming, with the Oriental 
turban, caftan, and loose trousers ; and the 
Philosopher of our party remarks that the 
African requires costume, implying that the 
New Englander can stand alone, as can his 
clothes, in their black rigidity. The officers 
are white, and the Major very polite ; he shows 
us the men, the arms, the kits, the quarters, 
and, having done all that he can do for us, 
relinquishes us with a gallant bow to our Host 
of the drive and breakfast. 

The drive does something to retrieve the 
character of the island. The road is hard 
and even, overhung with glossy branches of 
strange trees bearing unknown fruits, and 
studded on each side with pleasant villas and 
with negro huts. There are lovely flowers 
everywhere, among which the Hibiscus, called 
South- Sea Rose, and the Oleander, are most 
frequent, and most brilliant. We see many 



18 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

tall groves of cocoa-nut, and cast longing 
glances towards the fruit, which little negroes, 
with surprising activity, attain and shake 
down. A sudden turn in the road discloses 
a lovely view of the bay, with its wonderful 
green waters, clear and bright as emerald; — 
there is a little beach, and boats lie about, and 
groups of negroes are laughing and chatter- 
ing, — quoting stocks from the last fish-mar- 
ket, very likely. We purchase for half a dol- 
lar a bunch of bananas, for which Ford or 
Palmer would ask us ten dollars at least, and 
go rejoicing to our breakfast. 

Our Host is a physician of the island, Eng- 
lish by birth, and retaining his robust form and 
color in spite of a twenty-years' residence in 
the warm climate. He has a pleasant family 
of sons and daughters, all in health, but with- 
out a shade of pink in lips or cheeks. The 
breakfast consists of excellent fried fish, fine 
Southern hominy, — not the pebbly broken 
corn which our dealers impose under that 
name, — various hot cakes, tea and coffee, 
bananas, sapodillas, and if there be anything 
else not included in the present statement, let 



NASSAU. 19 

haste and want of time excuse the omission. 
The conversation runs a good deal on the 
hopes of increasing prosperity which the new 
maii-steamer opens to the eyes of the Nassau- 
ese. Invalids, they say, will do better there 
than in Cuba, — it is quieter, much cheaper, 
and the climate is milder. There will be a 
hotel very soon, where no attention will be 
spared, etc., etc. The Government will afford 
every facility, etc., etc. It seemed indeed a 
friendly little place, with delicious air and sky, 
and a good, reasonable, decent, English tone 
about it. Expenses moderate, ye fathers of 
encroaching families. Negroes abundant and 
natural, ye students of ethnological possibili- 
ties. Officers in red jackets, you young ladies, 
— young ones, some of them. Why wouldn't 
you all try it, especially as the Captain of the 
" Karnak " is an excellent sailor, and the kind- 
est and manliest of conductors ? 



20 A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER III. 

FROM NASSAU TO CUBA. 

The breakfast being over, we recall the Cap- 
tain's parting admonition to be on board by- 
ten o'clock, with the significant gesture and 
roll of the eye which clearly express that Eng- 
land expects every passenger to do his duty. 
Now we know very well that the " Karnak " 
is not likely to weigh anchor before twelve, 
at the soonest, but we dare not for out lives 
disobey the Captain. So, passing by yards 
filled with the huge Bahama sponges, piles 
of wreck-timber, fishing-boats with strange 
fishes, red, yellow, blue, and white, and tubs 
of alder manic turtle, we attain the shore, and 
presently, the steamer. Here we find a large 
deputation of the towns-people taking passage 
with us for a pleasure excursion to Havana. 
The greater number are ladies and children. 
They come fluttering on board, poor things, 



FROM NASSAU TO CUBA. 21 

like butterflies, in gauzy dresses, hats, and 
feathers, according to the custom of their 
country; one gentleman takes four little 
daughters with him for a holiday. We ask 
ourselves whether they know what an ugly 
beast the Gulf- Stream is, that they affront 
him in such light armor. " Good heavens ! 
how sick they will be ! " we exclaim ; while 
they eye us askance, in our winter trim, and 
pronounce us slow, and old fogies. With all 
the rashness of youth, they attack the lunch- 
eon-table. So boisterous a popping of corks 
was never heard in all our boisterous pas- 
sage ; — there is a chorus, too, of merry 
tongues and shrill laughter. But we get 
fairly out to sea, where the wind, an adverse 
one, is waiting for us, and at that gay table 
there is silence, followed by a rush and dis- 
appearance. The worst cases are hurried out 
of sight, and going above, we find the dis- 
abled lying in groups about the deck, the 
feather-hats discarded, the muslins crumpled, 
and we, the old fogies, going to cover the 
fallen with shawls and blankets, to speak 
words of consolation, and to implore the suf- 



22 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

ferers not to cure themselves with brandy, 
soda-water, claret, and wine-bitters, in quick 
succession, — which they, nevertheless, do, and 
consequently are no better that day, nor the 
next. 

But I am forgetting to chronicle a touch- 
ing parting interview with the Major, the last 
thing remembered in Nassau, and of course 
the last to be forgotten anywhere. Our con- 
cluding words might best be recorded in the 
form of a catechism of short questions and 
answers, to wit : — 

" How long did the Major expect to stay 
in Nassau?" 

" About six months." 

" How long would he stay, if he had his 
own way.? " 

" Not one ! " 

"What did he come for, then?" 

" Oh, you buy into a nigger regiment for 
promotion." 

These were the most important facts elic- 
ited by cross-examination. At last we shook 
hands warmly, promising to meet again some- 
where, and the crimson-lined barge with the 



FROM NASSAU TO CUBA. 23 

black Zouaves carried him away. In hum- 
bler equipages depart the many black women 
who have visited the steamer, some for amuse- 
ment, some to sell the beautiful shell-work 
made on the island. These may be termed, 
in general, as ugly a set of wenches as one 
could wish not to see. They all wear palm- 
leaf hats stuck on their heads without strings 
or ribbons, and their clothes are so ill-made 
that you cannot help thinking that each has 
borrowed somebody else's dress, until you see 
that the ill-fitting garments are the rule, not 
the exception. 

But neither youth nor sea-sickness lasts for- 
ever. The forces of nature rally on the second 
day, and the few who have taken no remedies 
recover the use of their tongues and some of 
their faculties. From these I gather what I 
shall here impart as 

SERIOUS VIEWS OF THE BAHAMAS. 

The principal exports of these favored isl- 
ands are fruits, sponges, molasses, and sugar. 
Their imports include most of the necessaries 
of life, which come to them oftenest in the 



24 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

form of wrecks, by which they obtain them at 
a small fraction of the original cost and value. 
For this resource they are indebted to the 
famous Bahama Banks, which to their way 
of thinking are institutions as important as 
the Bank of England itself. These banks 
stand them in a handsome annual income, and 
facilitate large discounts and transfers of prop- 
erty not contemplated by the original posses- 
sors. One supposes that somebody must suf- 
fer by these forced sales of large cargoes at 
prices ruinous to commerce, — but who sutlers 
is a point not easy to ascertain. There seems 
to be a good, comfortable understanding all 
round. The Owners say, " Go ahead, and 
don't bother yourself, — she's insured." The 
Captain has got his ship aground in shoal 
water where she can't sink, and no harm 
done. The friendly wreckers are close at hand 
to haul the cargo ashore. The Underwriter 
of the insurance company has shut his eyes 
and opened his mouth to receive a plum, 
which, being a good large one, will not let 
him speak. And so the matter providentially 
comes to pass, and " enterprises of great pith 



FROM NASSAU TO CUBA. 25 

and moment" oftenest get no further than 
the Bahamas. 

Nassau produces neither hay nor corn, — 
these, together with butter, flour, and tea, be- 
ing brought chiefly from the United States. 
Politics, of course, it has none. As to laws, 
the colonial system certainly needs propping 
up, — - for under its action a man may lead so 
shameless a life of immorality as to compel 
his wife to leave him, and yet not be held 
responsible for her support and that of the 
children she has borne him. The principal 
points of interest are, first, the garrison, — 
secondly, Government- House, with an occa- 
sional ball there, — and, third, one's next-door 
neighbor, and his or her doings. The prin- 
cipal event in the memory of the citizens 
seems to be a certain most desirable wreck, 
in consequence of which, a diamond card-case, 
worth fifteen hundred dollars, was sold for an 
eighth part of that sum, and laces, whose cur- 
rent price ranges from thirty to forty dollars a 
yard, were purchased at will for seventy-five 
cents. That was a wreck worth having ! say 
the Nassauese. The price of milk ranges from 
2 



26 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

eighteen to twenty-five cents a quart ; — think 
of that, ye New England housekeepers ! That 
precious article, the pudding, is nearly un- 
known in the Nassauese economy ; nor is 
pie-crust so short as it might be, owing to 
the enormous price of butter, which has been 
known to attain the sum of one dollar per 
pound. Eggs are quoted at prices not com- 
mendable for large families with small means. 
On the other hand, fruits, vegetables, and 
sugar-cane are abundant. 

The Nassauese, on the whole, seem to be a 
kind-hearted and friendly set of" people, partly 
English, partly Southern in character, but with 
rather a predominance of the latter ingredient 
in their composition. Their women resemble 
the women of our own Southern States, but 
seem simpler and more domestic in their 
habits, — while the men would make tolerable 
Yankees, but would scarcely support Presi- 
dent Buchanan, the Kansas question, or the 
Filibustero movement. Physically, the race 
suffers and degenerates under the influence of 
the warm climate. Cases of pulmonary dis- 
ease, asthma, and neuralgia are of frequent 



FROM NASSAU TO CUBA. 27 

occurrence, and cold is considered as curative 
to them as heat is to us. The diet, too, is 
not that "giant ox-beef" which the Saxon 
race requires. Meat is rare and tough, unless 
brought from the States at high cost. We 
were forced to the conclusion that no genuine 
English life can be supported upon a regime 
of fish and fruit, — or, in other words, no beef, 
no Bull, but a very different sort of John, 
lantern-jawed, leather-skinned, and of a thirsty 
complexion. It occurred to us, furthermore, 
that it is a dolorous thing to live on a lonely 
little island, tied up like a wart on the face 
of civilization, — no healthful stream of life 
coming and going from the great body of 
the main land, — the same moral air to be 
breathed over and over again, without re- 
newal, — the same social elements turned and 
returned in one tiresome kaleidoscope. Where- 
fore rejoice, ye Continentals, and be thankful, 
and visit the Nassauese, bringing beef, butter, 
and beauty, — bringing a few French mus- 
lins, to replace the coarse English fabrics, and 
buxom Irish girls to outwork the idle negro 
women, — bringing new books, newspapers, 



28 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

and periodicals, — bringing the Yankee lec- 
turer, all expenses paid, and his drink found 
him. All these good things, and more, the 
States have for the Nassauese, of whom we 
must now take leave, for all hands have been 
piped on deck. 

We have jolted for three weary days over 
the roughest of ocean-highways, and Cuba, 
nay, Havana, is in sight. The worst cases 
are up, and begin to talk about their sea-legs, 
now that the occasion for them is at an end. 
Sobrina, the chief wit of our party, who would 
eat sour-sop, sapodilla, orange, banana, cocoa- 
nut, and sugar-cane at Nassau, and who has 
lived upon toddy of twenty-cocktail power 
ever since, — even she is seen, clothed and in 
her right mind, sitting at the feet of the 
Prophet she loves, and going through the 
shawl-and-umbrella exercise. And here is the 
Morro Castle, which guards the entrance of 
the harbor, — here go the signals, answering 
to our own. Here comes the man with the 
speaking-trumpet, who, understanding no Eng- 
lish, yells out to our captain, who understands 
no Spanish. The following is a free render- 
ing of their conversation : — 



FKOM NASSAU TO CUBA. 29 

" Any Americans on board ? " 

" Yes, thank Heaven, plenty." 

" How many are Filibusteros ? " 

" AU of them." 

" Bad luck to them, then ! " 

" The same to you ! " 

" Caramba," says the Spaniard. 

" " says the Englishman. 

And so the forms of diplomacy are fulfilled ; 
and of Havana, more in my next. 



30 A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE HARBOR OF HAVANA. 

As we have said, there were some official 
mysteries connected with the arrival of our 
steamer in Nassau ; but these did not compare 
with the visitations experienced in Havana. 
As soon as we had dropped anchor, a swarm 
of dark creatures came on board, with gloomy- 
brows, mulish noses, and suspicious eyes. 
This application of Spanish flies proves irri- 
tating to the good-natured Captain, and un- 
comfortable to all of us. All possible docu- 
ments are produced for their satisfaction, — 
bill of lading, bill of health, and so on. Still 
they persevere in tormenting the whole ship's 
crew, and regard us, when we pass, with all 
the hatred of race in their rayless eyes. " Is 
it a crime," we are disposed to ask, " to have. 
a fair Saxon skin, blue eyes, and red blood ? " 
Truly, one would seem to think so; and the 



THE HAEBOE OF HAVANA. 31 

first glance at this historical race makes clear 
to us the Inquisition, the Conquest of Gra- 
nada, and the ancient butcheries of Alva and 
Pizarro. 

As Havana is an unco uncertain place for 
accommodations, we do not go on shore, the 
first night, but, standing close beside the bul- 
warks, feel a benevolent pleasure in seeing our 
late companions swallowed and carried off 
like tidbits by the voracious boatmen below, 
who squabble first for them and then with 
them, and so gradually disappear in the dark- 
ness. On board the " Karnak " harmony 
reigns serene. The custom-house wretches 
are gone, and we are, on the whole, glad we 
did not murder them. Our little party enjoys 
tea and bread-and-butter together for the last 
time. After so many mutual experiences of 
good and.evil, the catguts about our tough old 
hearts are loosened, and discourse the pleasant 
music of Friendship. An hour later, I creep 
up to the higher deck, to have a look-out for- 
ward, where the sailors are playing leap-frog 
and dancing fore-and-afters. I have a genuine 
love of such common sights, and am quite 



32 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

absorbed by the good fun before me, when a 
solemn voice sounds at my left, and looking 
round, I perceive Can Grande, who has come 
up to explain to me the philosophy of the 
sailor's dances, and to unfold his theory of 
amusements, as far as the narrow area of one 
little brain (mine, not his) will permit. His 
monologue, and its interruptions, ran very 
much as follows : — 

I. — This is a pleasant sight, isn't it ? 

Can Grande. — It has a certain interest, as 
exhibiting the inborn ideal tendency of the 
human race ; — no tribe of people so wretched, 
so poor, or so infamous as to dispense with 
amusement, in some form or other. 

Voice from below. — Play up, Cook ! That's 
but a slow jig ye're fluting away at. 

Can Qrande. — I went once to the Five 
Points of New York, with a police-officer 
and two philanthropists ; — our object was to 
investigate that lowest phase of social exist- 
ence. 

Bang, whang, go the wrestlers below, with 
loud shouts and laughter. I give them one 
eye and ear, — Can Grande has me by the 
other. 



THE HARBOR OF HAVANA. 33 

Can Grande. — I went into one of their 
miserable dance-saloons. I saw there the 
vilest of men and the vilest of women, meet- 
ing with the worst intentions ; but even for 
this they had the fiddle, music and dancing. 
Without this little crowning of something 
higher, their degradation would have been 
intolerable to themselves and to each oth- 
er. 

Here the man who gave the back in leap- 
frog suddenly went down in the middle of the 
leap, bringing with him the other who, rolling 
on the deck, caught the traitor by the hair, and 
pommelled him to his heart's content. I ven- 
tured to laugh, and exclaim, " Did you see 
that?" 

Can Grande. — Yes ; that is very common. 
— At that dance of death, every wretched 
woman had such poor adornment as her 
circumstances allowed, — a collar, a tawdry 
ribbon, a glaring false jewel, her very rags 
disposed with the greater decency of the finer 
sex, — a little effort at beauty, a sense of 
it. The good God puts it there ; — He does 
not allow the poorest, the lowest of his hu- 

2* 



34 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

man children the thoughtless indifference of 
brutes. 

And there was the beautiful tropical sky- 
above, starry, soft, and velvet-deep, — the 
placid waters all around, and at my side the 
Man who is to speak no more in public, but 
whose words in private have still the old thrill, 
the old power to shake the heart and bring the 
good thoughts uppermost. I put my hand in 
his, and we descended the companion-way 
together, and left the foolish sailors to their 
play. 

But now, on the after-deck, the Cap- 
tain, entreated and in nowise unwilling, takes 
down his violin, and with pleasant touch 
gives us the dear old airs, " Home, Sweet 
Home," " Annie Laurie," and so on, and we 
accompany him with voices toned down by 
the quiet of the scene around. He plays too, 
with a musing look, the merry tune to which 
his little daughter dances, in the English 
dancing-school, hundreds of leagues away. 
Good-night, at last, and make the most of it. 
Coolness and quiet on the water to-night, and 
heat and mosquitoes, howling of dogs and 



THE HARBOK OF HAVANA. 35 

chattering of negroes to-morrow night, in 
Havana. 

The next morning allowed us to accomplish 
our transit to the desired land of Havana. 
We pass the Custom-house, where an official 
in a cage, with eyes of most oily sweetness, 
and tongue, no doubt, to match, pockets our 
gold, and imparts in return a governmental 
permission to inhabit the island of Cuba for 
the space of one calendar month. We go 
trailing through the market, where we buy 
peeled oranges, and through the streets, where 
we eat them, seen and recognized afar as 
Yankees by our hats, bonnets, and other feat- 
ures. We stop at the Cafe Dominica, and 
refresh with coffee and buttered rolls, for we 
have still a drive of three miles to accomplish 
before breakfast. All the hotels in Havana 
are full, and more than full. Woolcut, of the 
Cerro, three miles from the gates, is the only 
landlord who will take us in ; so he seizes us 
fairly by the neck, bundles us into an omnibus, 
swears that his hotel is but two miles dis- 
tant, smiles archly when we find the two miles 
long, brings us where he wants to have us, the 



36 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

Spaniards in the omnibus puffing and staring 
at the ladies all the way. Finally, we arrive 
at his hotel, glad to be somewhere, but hot, 
tired, hungry, and not in raptures with our 
first experience of tropical life. 

It must be confessed that our long-tried 
energies fall somewhat flat on the quiet of 
Woolcut's. We look round, and behold one 
long room with marble floor, with two large 
doors, not windows, opening in front upon 
the piazza and the street, and other openings 
into a large court behind, surrounded "by small, 
dark bedrooms. The large room is furnished 
with two dilapidated cane sofas, a few chairs, 
a small table, and three or four indifferent 
prints, which we have ample time to study. 
For company, we see a stray New York or 
Philadelphia family, a superannuated Mexican 
who smiles and bows to everybody, and some 
dozen of those undistinguishable individuals 
whom we class together as Yankees, and who, 
taking the map from Maine to Georgia, might 
as well come from one place as another, the 
Southerner being as like the Northerner as a 
dried pea is to a green pea. The ladies begin 



THE HARBOR OF HAVANA. 37 

to hang their heads, and question a little : — 
" What are we to do here ? and where is the 
perfectly delightful Havana you told us of ? " 
Answer : — " There is nothing whatever to do 
here, at this hour of the day, but to undress 
and go to sleep; — the heat will not let you 
stir, the glare will not let you write or read. 
Go to bed ; dinner is at four ; and after that, 
we will make an effort to find the Havana of 
the poetical and Gan Eden people, praying 
Heaven it may not have its only existence in 
their brains." 

Still, the pretty ones do not brighten. They 
walk up and down, eyeing askance the quiet 
boarders who look so contented over their 
children and worsted-work, and wondering in 
what part of the world they have taken the 
precaution to leave their souls. Unpacking 
is then begun, with rather a flinging of the 
things about, interspersed with little peppery 
hints as to discomfort and dulness, and de- 
jected stage-sighs, intended for hearing. But 
this cannot go on, — the thermometer is at 78° 
in the shade, — an intense and contagious 
stillness reigns through the house, — some 



38 A TE1P TO CUBA. 

good genius waves a bunch of poppies near 
those little fretful faces, for which a frown is 
rather heavy artillery. The balmy breath of 
sleep blows off the lightly-traced furrows, 
and after a dreamy hour or two all is bright, 
smooth, and freshly dressed, as a husband 
could wish it. The dinner proves not intol- 
erable, and after it we sit on the piazza. A 
refreshing breeze springs up, and presently the 
tide of the afternoon drive sets in from the 
city. The volantes dash by, with silver-stud- 
ded harnesses, and postilions black and boot- 
ed ; within sit the pretty Senoritas, in twos 
and threes. They are attired mostly in mus- 
lins, with bare necks and arms ; bonnets they 
know not, — their heads are dressed with 
flowers, or with jewelled pins. Their faces 
are whitened, we know, with powder, but in 
the distance the effect is pleasing. Their dark 
eyes are vigilant; they know a lover when 
they see him. But there is no twilight in 
these parts, and the curtain of the dark falls 
upon the scene as suddenly as the screen of 
the theatre upon the denouement of the trag- 
edy. Then comes a cup of truly infernal tea, 



THE HAKBOK OF HAVANA. 39 

the mastication of a stale roll, with butter, 
also stale, — then, more sitting on the piaz- 
za, — then, retirement, and a wild hunt after 
mosquitoes, — and so ends the first day at 
Woolcut's, on the Cerro. 



40 A TEIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER V. 

HAVANA. THE HOTELS. 

" Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn?" 
Yes, truly, if you can get it, Jack Falstaff; 
but it is one thing to pay for comfort, and 
another thing to have it. You certainly pay 
for it, in Havana ; for the $3 or $3.50 per 
diem, which is your simplest hotel-charge 
there, should, in any civilized part of the 
world, give you a creditable apartment, clean 
linen, and all reasonable diet. What it does 
give, the travelling public may like to learn. 

Can Grande has left Woolcut's. The first 
dinner did not please him, — the cup of tea, 
with only bread, exasperated, — and the sec- 
ond breakfast, greasy, peppery, and incon- 
gruous, finished his disgust ; so he asked for 
his bill, packed his trunk, called the hotel 
detestable, and went. 

Now he was right enough in this ; the house 



THE HOTELS. 41 

is detestable ; — but as all houses of entertain- 
ment throughout the country are about equal- 
ly so, it is scarcely fair to complain of one. I 
shall not fear to be more inclusive in my state- 
ment, and to affirm that in no part of the 
world does one get so little comfort for so 
much money as on the Island of Cuba. To 
wit: an early cup of black coffee, oftenest 
very bad ; bread not to be had without an 
extra sputtering of Spanish, and darkening of 
the countenance ; — to wit, a breakfast be- 
tween nine and ten, invariably consisting of 
fish, rice, beefsteak, fried plantains, salt cod 
with tomatoes, stewed tripe and onions, indif- 
ferent claret, and an after-cup of coffee or 
green tea ; — to wit, a dinner at three or four, 
of which the inventory varieth not, — to wit, a 
plate of soup, roast beef, tough turkeys and 
chickens, tolerable ham, nameless stews, cayo- 
ta, plantains, salad, sweet potatoes; and for 
dessert, a spoonful each of West India pre- 
serve, — invariably the kind you do not like, 
— oranges, bananas, and another cup of cof- 
fee;— to wit, tea of the sort already de- 
scribed; — to wit, attendance and non-attend- 



42 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

ance of negro and half-breed waiters, who 
mostly speak no English, and neither know 
nor care what you want; — to wit, a room 
whose windows, reaching from floor to ceiling, 
inclose no glass, and are defended from the 
public by iron rails, and from the outer air, at 
desire, by clumsy wooden shutters, which are 
closed only when it rains ; — to wit, a bed 
with a mosquito-netting ; — to wit, a towel 
and a pint of water, for all ablutions. This 
is the sum of your comforts as to quantity; 
but as to their quality, experience alone can 
enlighten you. 

Taking pity on my exile at the Cerro, Can 
Grande and his party invite me to come and 
spend a day at their hotel, of higher reputa- 
tion, and situated in the centre of things. I 
go; — the breakfast, to my surprise, is just 
like Woolcut's ; the dinner idem, but rather 
harder to get ; preserves for tea, and two tow- 
els daily, instead of one, seem to constitute 
the chief advantages of this establishment. 
Domestic linens, too, are fairer than else- 
where ; but when you have got your ideas 
of cleanliness down to the Cuban standard, 



THE HOTELS. 43 

a shade or two either way makes no material 
difference. 

Can Grande comes and goes; for stay in 
the hotel, behind those prison-gratings, he 
cannot. He goes to the market and comes 
back, goes to the Jesuit College and comes 
back, goes to the Banker's and gets money. 
In his encounters, with the sun he is like a 
prize-fighter coming up to time. Every round 
finds him weaker and weaker, still his pluck 
is first-rate, and he goes at it again. It is not 
until three, p. m., that he wrings out his drip- 
ping pocket-handkerchief, slouches his hat 
over his brows, and gives in as dead-beat. 

They of the lovely sex meanwhile undergo, 
with what patience they may, an Oriental 
imprisonment. In the public street they must 
on no account set foot. The Creole and Span- 
ish women are born and bred to this, and the 
hardiest American or English woman will 
scarcely venture out a second time without the 
severe escort of husband or brother. These 
relatives are, accordingly, in great demand. 
In the thrifty North, Man is considered an in- 
cumbrance from breakfast to dinner, — and the 



44 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

sooner he is fed and got out of the way in the 
morning, the better the work of the household 
goes on. If the master of the house return at 
an unseasonable hour, he is held to an excuse, 
and must prove a headache, or other suitable 
indisposition. In Havana, on the contrary, 
the American woman suddenly becomes very 
fond of her husband : — "he must not leave 
her at home alone; where does he go? she 
will go with him ; when will he come back ? 
Remember, now, she will expect him." The 
secret of all this is that she cannot go out 
without him. The other Angel of deliverance 
is the volante, with its tireless horses and 
calesero, who seems fitted and screwed to the 
saddle, which he never leaves. He does not 
even turn his head for orders. His senses are 
in the back of his head, or wherever his Mis- 
tress pleases. " Jose, Calle de la Muralla, es- 
quina a los ojicios" — and the black machine 
moves on, without look, word, or sign of in- 
telligence. In New York, your Irish coach- 
man grins approval of your order; and even 
an English flunkey may touch his hat and 
say, " Yes, Mum." But in the Cuban negro 



THE HOTELS. 45 

of service, dumbness is the complement of 
darkness. You speak, and the patient right 
hand pulls the strap that leads the off horse, 
while the other gathers up the reins of the 
nigh, and the horses, their tails tightly braided 
and deprived of all movement, seem as me- 
chanical as the driver. Happy are the ladies 
at the hotel who have a perpetual volante at 
their service! for they dress in their best 
clothes three times a day, and do not soil 
them by contact with the dusty street. They 
drive before breakfast, and shop before dinner, 
and after dinner go to flirt their fans and re- 
fresh their robes on the Paseo, where the fash- 
ions drive. At twilight, they stop at friendly 
doors and pay visits, or at the entrance of the 
cafe, where ices are brought out to them. At 
eight o'clock they go to the Plaza, and hear 
the band play, sitting in the volante; and at 
ten they come home without fatigue, having 
all day taken excellent care of Number One, 
beyond which their arithmetic does not ex- 
tend. " I and my volante " is like Cardinal 
Wolsey's " Ego et Rex meusP 

As for those who have no volantes, modesty 



46 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

becomes them, and quietness of dress and de- 
meanor. They get a little walk before break- 
fast, and stay at home all day, or ride in an 
omnibus, which is perhaps worse ; — they pay 
a visit now and then in a hired carriage, the 
bargain being made with difficulty ; — they 
look a good deal through the bars of the 
windows, and remember the free North, and 
would, perhaps, envy the volante-command- 
ing women, did not dreadful Moses forbid. 

One alleviation of the tedium of hotel-life 
in the city is the almost daily visit of the 
young man from the dry-goods' shop, who 
brings samples of lawns, linen dresses, pina 
handkerchiefs, and fans of all prices, from 
two to seventy-five dollars. The ladies cluster 
like bees around these flowery goods, and, 
after some hours of bargaining, disputing, 
and purchasing, the vendor pockets the golden 
honey, and marches off. As dressmakers in 
Havana are scarce, dear, and bad, our fair 
friends at the hotel make up these dresses 
mostly themselves, and astonish their little 
world every day by appearing in new attire. 
" How extravagant ! " you say. They reply, 



THE HOTELS. 47 

" Oh ! it cost nothing for the making ; I made 
it myself." But we remember to have heard 
somewhere that " Time is Money." At four 
in the afternoon, a negress visits in turn every 
bedroom, sweeps out the mosquitoes from the 
curtains with a feather-brush, and lets down 
the mosquito-net, which she tucks in around 
the bed. After this, do not meddle with your 
bed until it is time to get into it ; then put the 
light away, open the net cautiously, enter with 
a dexterous swing, and close up immediately, 
leaving no smallest opening to help them after. 
In this mosquito-net you live, move, and have 
your being until morning; and should you 
venture to pull it aside, even for an hour, you 
will appall your friends, next day, with a face 
which suggests the early stages of small-pox, 
or the spotted fever. 

The valuable information I have now com- 
municated is the sum of what I learned in 
that one day at Mrs. Almy's ; and though our 
party speedily removed thither, I doubt wheth- 
er I shall be able to add to it anything of 
importance. 



48 A TKIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER VI. 

HAY ANA. TOUR BANKER. OUR CONSUL. THE 
FRIENDLY CUP OP TEA. 

One is apt to arrive in Havana with a heart 
elated by the prospect of such kindnesses and 
hospitalities as are poetically supposed to be 
the perquisite of travellers. You count over 
your letters as so many treasures ; you regard 
the unknown houses you pass as places of 
deposit for the new acquaintances and delight- 
ful friendships which await you. In England, 
say you, each of these letters would represent 
a pleasant family-mansion thrown open to 
your view, — a social breakfast, — a dinner of 
London wits, — a box at the opera, — or the 
visit of a Lord, whose perfect carriage and 
livery astonish the quiet street in which you 
lodge, and whose good taste # and good man- 
ners should, one thinks, prove contagious, at 
once soothing and shaming the fretful Yankee 



HAVANA. 49 

conceit. But your Cuban letters, like fairy 
money, soon turn to withered leaves in your 
possession, and, having delivered two or three 
of them, you empjoy the others more advan- 
tageously, as shaving-paper, or for the lighting 
of cigars, or any other useful purpose. 

Your Banker, of course, stands first upon 
the list, — and to him accordingly, with a 
beaming countenance, you present yourself. 
For him you have a special letter of recom- 
mendation, and however others may fail, you 
consider him as sure as the trump of the deal 
at whist. But why, alas, should people, who 
have gone through the necessary disappoint- 
ments of life, prepare for themselves others, 
which may be avoided? Listen and learn. 
At the first visit, your Banker is tolerably glad 
to see you, — he discounts your modest letter 
of credit, and pockets his two and a half per 
cent, with the best grace imaginable. If he 
wishes to be very civil, he offers you a seat, 
offers you a cigar, and mumbles in an indis- 
tinct tone that he will be happy to serve you 
in any way. You call again and again, keep- 
ing yourself before his favorable remembrance, 

3 



50 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

— always the same seat, the same cigar, the 
same desire to serve you, carefully repressed, 
and prevented from breaking out into any 
overt demonstration of good-will. At last, 
emboldened by the brilliant accounts of for- 
mer tourists and the successes of your friends, 
you suggest that you would like to see a plan- 
tation, — you only ask for one, — would he 
give you a letter, etc., etc. ? He assumes an 
abstracted air, wonders if he knows anybody 
who has a plantation, — the fact being that he 
scarcely knows anybody who has not one. 
Finally, he will try, — call again, and he 
will let you know. You call again, — " Next 
week," he says. You call after that interval, 

— " Next week," again, is all you get. Now, 
if you are a thorough-bred man, you can 
afford to quarrel with your Banker; so you 
say, "Next week, — why not next year?" — 
make a very decided snatch at your hat, and 
wish him a very long " good-morning." But 
if you are a Snob and afraid, you take his 
neglect quietly enough, and will boast, when 
you go home, of his polite attentions to your- 
self and family, when on the Island of Cuba. 



OUE CONSUL. 51 

Our Consul is the next post in the weary 
journey of your hopes, and to him, with such 
assurance as you have left, you now betake 
yourself. Touching him personally I have 
nothing to say. I will only remark, in gen- 
eral, that the traveller who can find, in any 
part of the world, an American Consul not 
disabled from all service by ill-health, want of 
means, ignorance of foreign languages, or 
unpleasant relations with the representatives 
of foreign powers, — that traveller, we say, 
should go in search of the sea-serpent, and 
the passage of the North Pole, for he has 
proved himself able to find what, to every 
one but him, is undiscoverable. 

But who, setting these aside, is to show you 
any attention? Who will lift you from the 
wayside, and set you upon his own horse, or 
in his own volante, pouring oil and wine upon 
your wounded feelings ? Ah ! the breed of 
the good Samaritan is never allowed to be- 
come extinct in this world, where so much is 
left for it to do. 

A kind and hospitable American family, 
long resident in Havana, takes us up at last. 



52 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

They call upon us, and we lift up our 
heads ; they take us out in their carriage, 
and we step in with a little familiar flounce, 
intended to show that we are used to such 
things ; finally, they invite us to a friendly cup 
of tea, — all the hotel knows it, — we have 
tarried at home in the shade long enough. 
Now, people have begun to find us out, — 
we are going out to teal 

How pleasant the tea-table was, how good 
the tea, how more than good the bread-and- 
butter and plum-cake, how quaint the house 
of Spanish construction, all open to the air, 
adorned with flowers like a temple, fresh and 
fragrant, and with no weary upholstery to sit 
heavy on the sight, how genial and prolonged 
the talk, how reluctant the separation, — im- 
agine it, ye who sing the songs of home 
in a strange land. And ye who cannot im- 
agine, forego the pleasure, for I shall tell you 
no more about it. I will not, I, give names, 
to make good-natured people regret the hospi- 
tality they have afforded. If they ^ave enter- 
tained unawares angels and correspondents 
of the press, (I use the two terms as synony- 



A FRIENDLY CUP OF TEA. 53 

raous,) they shall not be made aware of it by 
the sacrifice of their domestic privacy. All 
celebrated people do this, and that we do it 
not answers for our obscurity. 

The cup of tea proves the precursor of 
many kind services and pleasant hours. Our 
new friends assist us to a deal of sight-seeing, 
and introduce us to cathedral, college, and 
garden. We walk out with them at sunrise 
and at sunset, and sit under the stately trees, 
and think it almost strange to be at home with 
people of our own race and our own way of 
thinking, so far from the home-surroundings. 
For the gardens, they may chiefly be described 
as triumphs of Nature over Art, — our New 
England horticulture being, on the contrary, 
the triumph of Art over Nature, after a hard- 
fought battle. Here, the avenues of palm and 
cocoa are magnificent, and the flowers new to 
us, and very brilliant. But pruning and weed- 
ing out are hard tasks for Creole natures, with 
only negroes to help them. There is for the 
most part a great overgrowth and overrunning 
of the least desirable elements, a general air 
of slovenliness and unthrift. In all artificial 



54 A TETP TO CUBA. 

arrangements decay seems imminent, and the 
want of idea in the laying out of grounds is a 
striking feature. In Italian villas, the feeling 
of the Beautiful, which has produced a race 
of artists, is everywhere manifest, — every- 
where are beautiful forms and picturesque 
effects. Even the ruins of Rome seem to be 
held together by this fine bond. No stone 
dares to drop, no arch to moulder, but with an 
exquisite and touching grace. And the weeds, 
oh ! the weeds that hang their little pennon on 
the Coliseum, how graciously do they float, as 
if they said, — " Breathe softly, lest this crum- 
bling vision of the Past go down before the 
rude touch of the modern world ! " And so 
one treads lightly, and speaks in hushed 
accents ; lest, in the brilliant Southern noon, 
one should wake the sleeping heart of Rome 
to the agony of her slow extinction. 

But what is all this ? We are dreaming 
of Rome, — and this is Cuba, where the spirit 
of Art has never been, and where it could 
not pass without sweeping out from houses, 
churches, gardens, and brains, such trash as 
has rarely been seen and endured elsewhere. 



A FRIENDLY CUP OF TEA. 55 

They show us, for example, some mutilated 
statues in the ruins of what is called the 
Bishop's Garden. Why, the elements did a 
righteous work, when they effaced the outlines 
of these coarse and trivial shapes, unworthy 
even the poor marble on which they were 
imposed. Turning from these, however, we 
find lovely things enough to rebuke this sav- 
age mood of criticism. The palm-trees are 
unapproachable in beauty, — they stand in 
rows like Ionic columns, straight, strong, and 
regular, with their plumed capitals. They 
talk solemnly of the Pyramids and the Desert, 
whose legends have been whispered to them 
by the winds that cross the ocean, freighted 
with the thoughts of God. Then, these huge 
white lilies, deep as goblets, from which one 
drinks fragrance, and never exhausts, — these 
thousand unknown jewels of the tropics. Here 
is a large tank, whose waters are covered with 
the leaves and flowers of beautiful aquatic 
plants, whose Latin names are of no possible 
consequence to anybody. Here, in the very 
heart of the garden, is a rustic lodge, curtained 
with trailing vines. Birds in cages are hung 



5Q A TEIP TO CUBA. 

about it, and a sweet voice, singing within, 
tells us that the lodge is the cage of a yet 
more costly bird. We stop to listen, and the 
branches of the trees seem to droop more 
closely about us, the twilight lays its cool, 
soft touch upon our heated foreheads, and 
we whisper, — " Peace to his soul ! " as we 
leave the precincts of the Bishop's Garden. 



THE JESUIT COLLEGE. 57 



CHAPTER VII. 

HAVANA THE JESUIT COLLEGE. 

The gentlemen of our party go one day 
to visit the Jesuit College in Havana, yclept 
" Universidad de BelenP The ladies, weary 
of dry goods, manifest some disposition to 
accompany them. This is at once frowned 
down by the unfairer sex, and Can Grande, 
appealed to by the other side, shakes his 
shoulders, and replies, " No, you are only 
miserable women, and cannot be admitted 
into any Jesuit establishment whatever." 
And so the male deputation departs with 
elation, and returns with airs of superior op- 
portunity, and is more insufferable than ever 
at dinner, and thereafter. 

They of the feminine faction, on the other 
hand, consult with more direct authorities, and 
discover that the doors of Belen are in nowise 
closed to them, and that everything within 



58 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

those doors is quite at their disposition, saving 
and excepting the sleeping-apartments of the 
Jesuit fathers, — to which, even in thought, 
they would on no account draw near. And 
so they went and saw Belen, whereof one of 
them relates as follows. 

The building is spacious, inclosing a hollow- 
square, and with numerous galleries, like Eu- 
ropean cloisters, where the youth walk, study, 
and play. We were shown up-stairs, into a 
pleasant reception-room, where two priests 
soon waited on us. One of these, Padre 
Doyaguez, seemed to be the decoy-duck of 
the establishment, and soon fastened upon 
one of our party, whose Protestant tone of 
countenance had probably caught his atten- 
tion. Was she a Protestant ? Oh, no ! — 
not with that intelligent physiognomy ! — not 
with that talent ! What was her name ? 
Julia (pronounced _Hulia). Hulia was a Ro- 
man name, a Catholic name ; he had never 
heard of a Hulia who was a Protestant; — 
very strange, it seemed to him, that a Hulia 
could hold to such unreasonable ideas. The 
other priest, Padre Lluc, meanwhile followed 



THE JESUIT COLLEGE. 59 

with sweet, quiet eyes, whose silent looks had 
more persuasion in them than all the innocent 
cajoleries of the elder man. Padre Doyaguez 
was a man eminently qualified to deal with 
the sex in general, — a coaxing voice, a pair 
of vivacious eyes whose cunning was not 
unpleasing, tireless good-humor and persever- 
ance, and a savor of sincerity. Padre Lluc 
was the sort of man that one recalls in quiet 
moments with a throb of sympathy, — the 
earnest eyes, the clear brow? the sonorous 
voice. One thinks of him, and hopes that he 
is satisfied, — that cruel longing and more 
cruel doubt shall never spring up in that 
capacious heart, divorcing his affections and 
convictions from the system to which his life 
is irrevocably wedded. No, keep still, Padre 
Lluc! think ever as you think now, lest the 
faith that seems a fortress should prove a 
prison, the mother a step-dame, — lest the 
high, chivalrous spirit, incapable of a safe 
desertion, should immolate truth or itself on 
the altar of consistency. 

Between those two advocates of Catho- 
licity, Hulia Protestante walks slowly through 



60 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

the halls of the University. She sees first a 
Cabinet of Natural History, including miner- 
als, shells, fossils, and insects, all well-arranged, 
and constituting a very respectable beginning. 
Padre Lluc says some good words on the 
importance of scientific education. Padre 
Doyaguez laughs at the ladies' hoops, which 
he calls MalakofFs, as they crowd through the 
doorways and among the glass cases ; he 
repeats occasionally, " Hulia Protestante ? " 
in a tone of mock astonishment, and receives 
for answer, " Si, Hulia Protestante" Then 
comes a very creditable array of scientific 
apparatus, — not of the order employed by 
the judges of Galileo, — electric and galvanic 
batteries, an orrery, and many things beside. 
The Library interests us more, with some lux- 
urious Classics, a superb Dante, and a prison- 
cage of forbidden works, of which Padre Lluc 
certainly has the key. Among these were fine 
editions of Rousseau and Voltaire, which ap- 
peared to be intended for use ; and we could 
imagine a solitary student, dark-eyed and 
pale, exploring their depths at midnight with 
a stolen candle, and endeavoring, with self- 



THE JESUIT COLLEGE. 61 

torment, to reconcile the intolerance of his 
doctrine with the charities of his heart. We 
imagine such an one lost in the philosophy 
and sentiment of the " Nouvelle Heioise," 
and suddenly summoned by the convent-bell 
to the droning of the Mass, the mockery of 
Holy Water, the fable of the Real Presence. 
Such contrasts might be strange and danger- 
ous. No, no, Padre Lluc! keep these un- 
known spells from your heart, — let the forbid- 
den books alone. Instead of the Confessions 
of Jean Jacques, read the Confessions of St. 
Augustine, — read the new book, in three vol- 
umes, on the Immaculate Conception, which 
you show me with such ardor, telling me that 
Can Grande has spoken of it with respect. 
Beyond the Fathers you must not get, for 
you have vowed to be a child all your life. 
Those clear eyes of yours are never to look 
up into the face of the Eternal Father ; the 
show-box of the Church must content them, 
with Mary and the saints seen through its 
dusty glass, — the august figure of the Son, 
who sometimes reproved his Mother, crowded 
quite out of sight behind the woman, whom 



62 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

it is so much easier to dress up and exhibit. 
What is this other book which Parker has 
read ? Padre Doyaguez says, " Hulia, if you 
read this, you must become a Catholic." 
Padre Lluc says, " If Parker has read this 
book, I cannot conceive that he is not a Cath- 
olic." The quick Doyaguez then remarks, 
" Parker is going to Rome to join the Romish 
Church." Padre Lluc rejoins, " They say so." 
Hulia Protestante is inclined to cry out, " The 
day that Parker becomes a Catholic, I too 
will become one " ; but, remembering the rash- 
ness of vows and the fallibility of men, she 
does not adopt that form of expressing Never, 
Parker might, if it pleased God, become a 
Catholic, and then the world would have two 
Popes instead of one. 

We leave at last the disputed ground of the 
Library and ascend to the Observatory, which 
commands a fine view of the city, and a good 
sweep of the heavens for the telescope, in 
which Padre Lluc seemed especially to de- 
light. The Observatory is commodious, and 
is chiefly directed by an attenuated young 
priest, with a keen eye and hectic cheek ; 



THE JESUIT COLLEGE. 63 

another is occupied in working out mathe- 
matical tables ; — for these Fathers observe 
the stars, and are in scientific correspondence 
with Astronomers in Europe. This circum- 
stance gave us real pleasure on their account, 
— for science, in all its degrees, is a positive 
good, and a mental tonic of the first impor- 
tance. Earnestly did we, in thought, com- 
mend it to those wearied minds which have 
undergone the dialectic dislocations, the de- 
naturalizations of truth and of thought, which 
enable rational men to become first Catholics, 
and then Jesuits. For let there be no illusions 
about strength of mind and so on, — this is 
effected by means of a vast machinery. As, 
in the old story, the calves were put in at 
one end of the cylinder and taken out leather 
breeches at the other, or as glass is cut and 
wood carved, so does the raw human material, 
put into the machine of the Catholic Church, 
become fashioned according to the will of 
those who guide it. Hulia Protestante! you 
have a free step and a clear head ; but once 
go into the machine, and you will come out 
carved and embossed according to the old tra- 



64 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

ditional pattern, — you as well as another. 
"Where the material is hard, they put on more 
power, — where it is soft, more care; where- 
fore I caution you here, as I would in a mill 
at Lowell or Lawrence, — Don't meddle with 
the shafts, — don't go too near the wheel, — 
in short, keep clear of the machinery. And 
Hulia does so ; for, at the last attack of Padre 
Doyaguez, she suddenly turns upon him and 
says, " Sir, you are a Doctrinary and a Propa- 
gandist." And the good Father suffers her to 
depart in peace. But first there is the chapel 
to be seen, with its tawdry and poor ornamen- 
tation, — and the dormitories of the scholars, 
with long double rows of beds and mosquito- 
nettings. There are two of these, and each 
of them has at one end a raised platform, with 
curtains and a bed, where rests and watches 
the shepherd of the little sheep. Lastly, we 
have a view of the whole flock, assembled in 
their play-ground, and one of them, looking 
up, sees his mother, who has kindly accompa- 
nied our visit to the institution. Across the 
distance that separates us, we see his blue 
eyes brighten, and, as soon as permission is 



THE JESUIT COLLEGE. G5 

given, he bounds like a young roe to her arms, 
shy and tender, his English blood showing 
through his Spanish skin, — for he is a child 
of mixed race. We are all pleased and 
touched, and Padre Lluc presently brings us 
a daguerreotype, and says, " It is my mother." 
To us it is an indifferent portrait of an elderly 
Spanish woman, — but to him, how much ! 
With kindest mutual regard we take leave, — 
a little surprised, perhaps, to see that Jesuit 
priests have mothers, and remember them. 



66 A TEIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 
" Far from my thoughts, vain -world, hegone ! " 

However enchanting Havana may prove 
when seen through the moonlight of memory, 
it seems as good a place to go away from as 
any other, after a stifling night in a net, the 
wooden shutters left open in the remote hope 
of air, and admitting the music of a whole 
opera-troupe of dogs, including Bass, Tenor, 
Soprano, and Chorus. Instead of bouquets, 
you throw stones, if you are so fortunate as to 
have them, — if not, boot-jacks, oranges, your 
only umbrella. You are last seen thrusting 
frantic hands and feet through, the iron bars, 
your wife holding you back by the flannel 
night-gown which you will persist in wearing 
in this doubtful climate. At last it is over, — 
the fifth act ends with a howl which makes 
you hope that some one of the performers 



SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 67 

has come to grief. But, alas ! it is only a 
stage denouement, whose hero will die again 
every night while the season lasts. You fall 
asleep, but the welcome cordial has scarcely 
been tasted when you are aroused by a knock 
at the door. It is the night-porter, who wakes 
you at five by appointment, that you may 
enjoy your early coffee, tumble into a hired 
volante, and reach, half dead with sleep, the 
station in time for the train that goes to San 
Antonio. 

Now, whether you are a partisan of early 
rising or not, you must allow that sunrise and 
the hour after is the golden time of the day in 
Cuba. So this hour of starting, — six o'clock, 
— so distasteful in our latitudes, is a matter 
of course in tropical climates. Arriving at the 
station, you encounter new tribulations in the 
registering and payment of luggage, the trans- 
portation of which is not included in the 
charge for your ticket. Your trunks are 
recorded in a book, and, having paid a real 
apiece for them, you receive a paper which 
entitles you to demand them again at your 
journey's end. The Cuban railways are good, 



68 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

but dear, — the charge being ten cents a mile ; 
whereas in our more favored land one goes for 
three cents, and has the chance of a collision 
and surgeon's services without any extra pay- 
ment. The cars have windows which are 
always open, and blinds which are always 
closed, or nearly so. The seats and backs of 
seats are of cane, for coolness, — hardness 
being secured at the same time. One reaches 
San Antonio in an hour and a half, and finds 
a pleasant village, with a river running through 
it, several streets of good houses, several more 
of bad ones, a cathedral, a cockpit, a volante, 
four soldiers on horseback, two on foot, a mar- 
ket, dogs, a bad smell, and lastly, the Ameri- 
can Hotel, — a house built in a hollow square, 
as usual, — kept by a strong-minded woman 
from the States, whose Yankee thrift is unmis- 
takable, though she has been long absent from 
the great centres of domestic economy. 

Mrs. L , always on the watch for arri- 
vals, comes out to receive us. We are very 
welcome, she hints, as far as we go ; but why 
are there not more of us ? The smallest fa- 
vors should be thankfully received, but she 



SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 69 

hears that Havana is full of strangers, and she 
wonders, for her part, why people will stay in 
that hot place, and roast, and stew, and have 
the yellow fever, when she could make them 
so comfortable in San Antonio. This want 
of custom she continues, during our whole 
visit, to complain of. Would it be uncharita- 
ble for us to aver that we found other wants 
in her establishment which caused us more 
astonishment, and which went some way 
towards accounting for the deficiency com- 
plained of? wants of breakfast, wants of din- 
ner, wants of something good for tea, wants 
of towels, wants of candles, wants of ice, or 
at least of the cooling jars used in the coun- 
try. Charges exorbitant, — the same as in 
Havana, where rents are an ounce a week, 
and upwards ; volantes difficult, — Mrs. L. 
having made an agreement with the one liv- 
ery-stable that they shall always be furnished 
at most unreasonable prices, of which she, 
supposably, pockets half. On the other hand, 
the village is really cool, healthy, and pretty ; 
there are pleasant drives over dreadful roads, 
if one makes up one's mind to the volante, and 



70 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

delightful river-baths, shaded by roofs of palm- 
tree thatch. One of the best of these is at 
the foot of Mrs. L.'s inclosure, and its use is 
included in the privileges of the house. The 
water is nearly tepid, clear, and green, and 
the little fish float hither and thither in it, 
— though men of active minds are sometimes 
reduced to angle for them, with crooked pins, 
for amusement. At the hour of one, daily, 
the ladies of the house betake themselves to 
this refreshment ; and there is laughing, and 
splashing, and holding of hands, and simula- 
tion of all the Venuses that ever were, from 
the crouching one of the bath, to the trium- 
phant Cytherea, springing for the first time 
from the wave. 

Such are the resources of the house. Those 
of the neighborhood are various. Foremost 
among them is the cafetal, or coffee-plantation, 
of Don Juan Torres, distant a league from the 
village, over which league of stone, sand, and 
rut you rumble in a volante dragged by three 
horses. You know that the volante cannot 
upset; nevertheless you experience some anx- 
ious moments when it leans at an obtuse 



SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 71 

angle, one wheel in air, one sticking in a hole, 
the horses balking and kicking, and the pos- 
tilion swearing his best. But it is written, 
the volante shall not upset, — and so it does 
not. Long before you see the entrance to the 
plantation, you watch the tall palms, planted 
in a line, that shield its borders. An avenue 
of like growth leads you to the house, where 
barking dogs announce you, and Don Juan, an 
elderly gentleman in slippers and a Panama 
hat, his hair, face, and eyes all faded to one 
hue of grayness, comes out to accost us. 
Here, again, Hulia Protestante becomes the 
subject of a series of attacks, in a new kind. 
Don Juan first exhausts his flower-garden 
upon her, and explains all that is new to her. 
Then she must see his blind Chino, a sightless 
Samson of a Cooly, who is working resolutely 
in a mill. " Canta ! " says the master, and the 
poor slave gives tongue like a hound on the 
scent. " Baila ! " and, a stick being handed 
him, he performs the gymnastics of his coun- 
try, a sort of war-dance without accompani- 
ment. "El can!" and, giving him a broom, 
they loose the dog upon him. A curious 



72 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

tussle then ensues, — the dog attacking furi- 
ously, and the blind man, guided by his bark- 
ing, defending himself lustily. The Chino 
laughs, the master laughs, but the visitor feels 
more inclined to cry, having been bred in 
those Northern habits which respect infirmity. 
A real dismisses the poor soul with a smile, 
and then begins the journey round the cafetal. 
The coffee-blossom is just in its perfection, 
and whole acres in sight are white with its 
flower, which nearly resembles that of the 
small white jasmine. Its fragrance is said to 
be delicious after a rain ; but, the season being 
dry, it is scarcely discernible. As shade is a 
great object in growing coffee, the grounds are 
laid out in lines of fruit-trees, and these are 
the ministers of Hulia's tribulation ; for Don 
Juan, whether in kindness or in mischief, in- 
sists that she shall taste every unknown fruit, 
— and as he cuts them and hands them to 
her, she is forced to obey. First, a little negro 
shins up a cocoa-nut tree, and flings down the 
nut, whose water she must drink. One cocoa- 
nut she endures, — two, — but three ? no, she 
must rebel, and cry out, " No mi gusta ! " 



SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 73 

Then she must try a bitter orange, then a sour 
bitter one, then a sweet lemon, then a huge 
fruit of triple verjuice flavor. " What is it 
good for ? " she asks, after a shuddering 
plunge into its acrid depths. " Oh," says the 
Don, " they eat it in the castors instead of 
vinegar." Then come sapotas, mamey, Ota- 
heite gooseberries. " Does she like bananas?" 
he cuts a tree down with his own hand, and 
sends the bunch of fruit to her volante ; — 
" Sugar-cane ? " he bestows a huge bundle of 
sticks for her leisurely rodentation; — he fills 
her pocket with coral beans for her children. 
Having, at last, exhausted every polite atten- 
tion, and vainly offered gin, rum, and coffee, 
as a parting demonstration, Hulia and her 
partner escape, bearing with them many 
strange flavors, and an agonizing headache, 
the combined result of sun and acids. Really, 
if there exist anywhere on earth a Society for 
the promotion and encouragement of good 
manners, it should send a diploma to Don 
Juan, admonishing him only to omit the 
vinegar-fruit in his further walks of hos- 
pitality. 



74 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

We take the Sunday to visit the nearest 
Sugar-plantation, belonging to Don Jacinto 
Gonzales. Sun, not shade, being the desid- 
eratum in sugar-planting, there are few trees 
or shrubs bordering the sugar-fields, which 
resemble at a distance our own fields of 
Indian corn, the green of the leaves being 
lighter, and a pale blue blossom appearing 
here and there. The points of interest here 
are the machinery, the negroes, and the work. 
Entering the sugar-house, we find the Ma- 
quinista (engineer) superintending some re- 
pairs in the machinery, aided by another white 
man, a Cooly, and an imp of a black boy, 
who begged of all the party, and revenged 
himself with clever impertinence on those who 
refused him. The Maquinista was a fine- 
looking man, from the Pyrenees, very kind 
and obliging. He told us that Don Jacinto 
was very old, and came rarely to the planta- 
tion. We asked him how the extreme heat 
of his occupation suited him, and for an 
answer he opened the bosom of his shirt, and 
showed us the marks of innumerable leeches. 
The machinery is not very complicated. It 



SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 75 

consists of a wheel and band, to throw the 
canes under the powerful rollers which crush 
them, and these rollers, three in number, all 
moved by the steam-engine. The juice flows 
into large copper caldrons, where it is boiled 
and skimmed. As they were not at work, we 
did not see the actual process. Leaving the 
sugar-house, we went in pursuit of the Map- 
oral, or Overseer, who seemed to inhabit com- 
fortable quarters, in a long, low house, shielded 
from the sun by a thick screen of matting. 
We found him a powerful, thick-set man, of 
surly and uncivil manners, girded with a 
sword, and further armed with a pistol, a 
dagger, and a stout whip. He was much 
too important a person to waste his words 
upon us, but signified that the major-domo 
would wait on us, which he presently did. 
We now entered the Negro quarter, a solid 
range of low buildings, formed around a hol- 
low square, whose strong entrance is closed at 
nightfall, and its inmates kept in strict con- 
finement till the morning hour of work comes 
round. Just within the doorway we encoun- 
tered the trader, who visits the plantations ev- 



76 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

ery Sunday, to tempt the stray cash of the 
negroes by various commodities, of which 
the chief seemed to be white bread, calicoes, 
muslins, and bright cotton handkerchiefs. He 
told us that their usual weekly expenditure 
amounted to about twenty-five dollars. Bar- 
gaining with him stood the Negro-Driver, a 
tattooed African, armed with a whip. All 
within the court swarmed the black bees of 
the hive, — the men with little clothing, the 
small children naked, the women decent. All 
had their little charcoal fires, with pots boiling 
over them ; the rooms within looked dismally 
dark, close, and dirty ; there are no windows, 
no air and light save through the ever-open 
door. The beds are sometimes partitioned off 
by a screen of dried palm-leaf, but I saw no 
better sleeping-privilege than a board with a 
blanket or coverlet. From this we turned to 
the Nursery, where all the children incapable 
of work are kept. The babies are quite naked, 
and sometimes very handsome in their way, 
black and shining, with bright eyes and well- 
formed limbs. No great provision is made for 
their amusement, but the little girls nurse them 



SAN ANTONIO DE LOS BANOS. 77 

tenderly enough, and now and then the elders 
fling them a bit of orange or chaimito, for 
which they scramble like so many monkeys. 
Appeals are constantly made to the pockets 
of visitors, by open hands stretched out in all 
directions. To these " Nada " — " Nothing " 
— is the safe reply; for, if you give to one, 
the others close about you with frantic gestic- 
ulation, and you have to break your way 
through them with some violence, which hurts 
your own feelings more than it does theirs. 
On strict plantations this is not allowed ; but 
Don Jacinto, like Lord Ashburton at the time 
of the Maine treaty, is an old man, — a very 
old man; and where discipline cannot be 
maintained, peace must be secured on any 
terms. We visit next the Sugar-house, where 
we find the desired condiment in various 
stages of color and refinement. It is whitened 
with clay in large funnel-shaped vessels, open 
at the bottom, to allow the molasses to run off. 
Above are hogsheads of coarse, dark sugar ; 
below is a huge pit of fermenting molasses, 
in which rats and small negroes occasionally 
commit involuntary suicide, and from which 



78 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

rum is made.^ — N. B. Rum is not a wick- 
ed word in Cuba ; in Boston everybody is 
shocked when it is named, and in Cuba no- 
body is shocked when it is drunk. 

And here endeth the description of our visit 
to the sugar-plantation of Don Jacinto, and in 
good time, too, — for by this it had grown so 
hot, that we made a feeble rush for the volante, 
and lay back in it, panting for breath. En- 
countering a negress with a load of oranges 
on her head, we bought and ate the fruit with 
eagerness, though the oranges were bitter. 
The jolting over three miles of stone and rut 
did not improve the condition of our aching 
heads. Arriving at San Antonio, we thank- 
fully went to bed for the rest of the morning, 
and dreamed, only dreamed, that the saucy 
black boy in the boiling-house had run after 
us, had lifted the curtain of the volante, 
screeched a last impertinence after us, and 
kissed his hand for a good-bye, which, luckily 
for him, is likely to prove eternal. 



THE MORRO FORTRESS. 79 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE MORRO FORTRESS THE UNIVERSITY OP 

HAVANA THE BENEFICENZA. 

The Spanish government experiences an 
unwillingness to admit foreigners into the 
Morro, their great stronghold, the causes of 
which may not be altogether mysterious. 
Americans have been of late especially ex- 
cluded from it, and it was only by a fortunate 
chance that we were allowed to visit it. A 
friend of a friend of ours happened to have a 
friend in the garrison, and, after some delays 
and negotiations, an early morning hour was 
fixed upon for the expedition. 

The Fort is finely placed at the entrance 
of the harbor, and is in itself a picturesque 
object. It is built of a light, yellowish stone, 
which is seen, as you draw near, in strong 
contrast with the vivid green of the tropical 
waters.' We approached it by water, taking 



80 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

a row-boat from the Alameda. As we passed, 
we had a good view of a daily Havana spec- 
tacle, the washing of the horses. This being 
by far the easiest and most expeditious way 
of cleaning the animals, they are driven daily 
to the sea in great numbers, those of one 
party being tied together ; they disport them- 
selves in the surge and their wet backs glis- 
ten in the sun. Their drivers, nearly naked, 
plunge in with them, and bring them safely 
back to the shore. 

But for the Morro. We entered without 
difficulty, and began at once a somewhat 
steep ascent, which the heat, even at that 
early hour, made laborious. After some 
climbing, we reached the top of the parapet, 
and looked out from the back of the Fortress. 
On this side, if ever on any, it will be taken, 
— for, standing with one's back to the harbor, 
one sees, nearly on the right hand, a point 
where trenches could be opened with advan- 
tage. The Fort is heavily gunned and gar- 
risoned, and seems to be in fighting order. 
The outer wall is separated from the inner 
by a paved space some forty feet in width. 



THE MORRO FORTRESS. 81 

The height of both walls makes this point a 
formidable one ; but scaling-ladders could be 
thrown across, if one had possession of the 
outer wall. The material is the coralline rock 
common in this part of the island. It is a 
soft stone, and would prove, it is feared, some- 
thing like the cotton-bag defence of New 
Orleans memory, — as the balls thrown from 
without would sink in, and not splinter the 
stone, which for the murderous work were to 
be wished. A little perseverance, with much 
perspiration, brought us to a high point called 
the Lantern, which is merely a small room, 
where the telescope, signal-books, and signals 
are kept. Here we were received by an offi- 
cial in blue spectacles and with a hole in 
his boot, but still with that air of being the 
chiefest thing on God's earth common to all 
Spaniards. The best of all was that we had 
brought a sack of oranges with us, and that 
the time was now come for their employment. 
With no other artillery than these did we take 
the very heart of the Morro citadel, — for on 
offering them to the official with the hole, he 
surrendered at once, smiled, gave us seats, and 

4* 



82 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

sitting down with us, indeed, was soon in the 
midst of his half-dozenth orange. Having 
refreshed ourselves, examined the flags of all 
nations, and made all the remarks which our 
limited Spanish allowed, we took leave, re- 
descended, and reembarked. One of our 
party, an old soldier, had meanwhile been 
busily scanning the points and angles of the 
fortress, pacing off distances, etc., etc. The 
result of his observations would, no doubt, be 
valuable to men of military minds. But the 
writer of this, to be candid, was especially 
engaged with the heat, the prospect, the or- 
anges, and the soldiers' wives and children, 
who peeped out from windows here and there. 
Such trifling creatures do come into such mas- 
sive surroundings, and trifle still ! 

Our ladies, being still in a furious mood of 
sight-seeing, desired to visit the University of 
Havana, and, having made appointment with 
an accomplished Cuban, betook themselves to 
the College buildings with all proper escort. 
Their arrival in the peristyle occasioned some 
excitement. One of the students came up, 
and said in good English, " What do you 



THE UNIVERSITY OF HAVANA. 83 

want ? " Others, not so polite, stared and 
whispered in corners. A message to one of 
the professors was attended with some delay, 
and our Cuban friend, having gone to consult 
with him, returned to say, with some embar- 
rassment, that the professor would be happy to 
show the establishment to the ladies on Sun- 
day, at two p. m., when every male creature 
but himself would be out of it; but as for 
their going through the rooms while the un- 
dergraduates were about, that was not to be 
thought of. " Why not ? " asked the ladies. 
" For your own sake," said the messenger, and 
proceeded to explain that the appearance of 
the skirted in these halls of learning would be 
followed by such ill-conduct and indignity 
of impertinence on the part of the shifted as 
might be intolerable to the one and disadvan- 
tageous to the other. Now there be women, 
we know, whose horrid fronts could have awed 
these saucy little Cubans into decency and 
good behavior, and some that we wot of, 
whether possessing that power or not, would 
have delighted in the fancied exercise of it. 
What strong-minded company, under these 



84 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

circumstances, would have turned back ? 
What bolting, tramping, and rushing would 
they not have made through the ranks of the 
astonished professors and students ? The An- 
niversary set, for example, who sweep the 
pews of men, or, coming upon one forlorn, 
crush him as a boa does a sheep. Our silly 
little flock only laughed, colored, and retreated 
to the volantes, where they held a council of 
war, and decided to go visit some establish- 
ment where possibly better manners might 
prevail. 

Returning on the Sunday at the hour ap- 
pointed, they walked through the deserted 
building, and found spacious rooms, the pul- 
pits of the professors, the benches of the stu- 
dents, the Queen's portrait, a very limited li- 
brary, and for all consolation, some pleasant 
Latin sentences over the doors of the various 
departments, celebrating the solace and de- 
lights of learning. This was seeing the Col- 
lege, literally; but it was a good deal like 
seeing the Lion's den, the Lion himself being 
absent on leave, — or like visiting the Hippo- 
potamus in Regent's Park on those days in 



THE UNIVEESITY OF HAVANA. 85 

which he remains steadfastly buried in his 
tank, and will show only the tip of a nostril 
for your entrance-fee. Still, it was a pleasure 
to know that learning was so handsomely 
housed ; and as for the little rabble who could 
not be trusted in the presence of the sex, we 
forgave them heartily, knowing that soberer 
manners would one day come upon them as 
inevitably as baldness and paternity. 

Let me here say that a few days in Havana 
make clear to one the seclusion of women in 
the East, and its causes. Wherever the ani- 
mal vigor of men is so large in proportion to 
their moral power as in those countries, 
women must be glad to forego their liberties 
for the protection of the strong arm. One 
master is better for them than many. What- 
ever tyranny may grow out of such barbarous 
manners, the institution springs from a verita- 
ble necessity and an original good intention. 
The Christian religion should change this, 
which is justifiable only in a Mohammedan 
country. But where that religion is so loose- 
ly administered as in Cuba, where its teachers 
themselves frequent the cockpit and the gam- 



86 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

ing-table, one must not look for too much of 
its power in the manners and morals of men. 
The Beneficenza was our next station. It 
is, as its name signifies, an institution with a 
benevolent purpose, an orphan asylum and 
foundling hospital in one. The State here 
charitably considers that infants who are 
abandoned by their parents are as much or- 
phaned as they can become by the interposi- 
tion of death, — nay, more. The death of 
parents oftenest leaves a child with some 
friend or relative ; but the foundling is cut 
off from all human relationship, — he belongs 
only to the hand that takes him up, where he 
has been left to die. Despite the kind cruelty 
of modern theories, which will not allow of 
suitable provision for the sufferer, for fear of 
increasing the frequency of the crime by which 
he suffers, our hearts revolt at the miserable 
condition of these little creatures in our great 
'cities, confounded with hopeless pauperism in 
its desolate asylums, or farmed out to starve 
and die. They belong to the State, and the 
State should nobly retrieve the world's offence 
against them. Their broken galaxy shows 



THE BENEFICENZA. 87 

many a bright star here and there. Such a 
little wailing creature has been found who has 
commanded great actions and done good ser- 
vice among . men. Let us then cherish the 
race of foundlings, of whom Moses was the 
first and the greatest. The princess who 
reared him saw not the glorious destiny which 
lay hid, as a birth-jewel, in his little basket 
of reeds. She saw only, as some of us have 
seen, a helpless, friendless babe. When he 
dedicated to her his first edition of the Penta- 
teuch But nay, he did not ; for neither 

gratitude nor dedications were in fashion 
among the Jews. 

We found the Beneficenza spacious, well- 
ventilated, and administered with great order. 
It stands near the sea, with a fine prospect 
in view, and must command a cool breeze, 
if there be any. The children enjoy sea- 
bathing in summer. The Superintendent re- 
ceived us most kindly, and presented us to the 
Sisters who have charge of the children, who 
were good specimens of their class. We 
walked with them through the neat dormito- 
ries, and observed that they were much more 



88 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

airy than those of the Jesuit College, lately- 
described. They all slept on the sackings 
of cots, beds being provided only in the 
infirmary. In the latter place we found but 
two inmates, — one suffering from ordinary 
Cuban fever, the other from ophthalmia. — 
N. B. Disease of the eyes does not seem to 
be common in Cuba, in spite of the tropical 
glare of the sun ; nor do people nurse and 
complain of their eyes there, as with us. 
We found a separate small kitchen for the 
sick, which was neat and convenient. The 
larger kitchen too was handsomely endowed 
with apparatus, and the Superintendent told 
us, with a twinkle in his eye, that the children 
lived well. Coffee at six, a good breakfast at 
nine, dinner at the usual hour, bread and 
eofTee before bed-time; — this seemed very- 
suitable as to quantity, though differing from 
our ideas of children's food; but it must be 
remembered that the nervous stimulus of 
coffee is not found to be excessive in hot 
climates; it seems to be only what Nature 
demands, — no more. The kind Nun who 
accompanied us now showed us, with some 



THE BENEFICENZA. 89 

pride, various large presses set in the wall, 
and piled to the top with clean and comfort- 
able children's clothing. We came presently 
to where the boys were reciting their cate- 
chism. An Ecclesiastic was hearing them ; 
— they seemed ready enough with their an- 
swers, but were allowed to gabble off the holy 
words in a manner almost unintelligible, and 
quite indecorous. They were bright, healthy- 
looking little fellows, ranging apparently from 
eight to twelve years of age. They had good 
play-ground set off for them, and shady galle- 
ries to walk up and down in. Coming from 
their quarter, the girls' department seemed 
quiet enough. Here was going on the eter- 
nal task of needle-work, to which the sex has 
been condemned ever since Adam's discovery 
of his want of wardrobe. Oh, ye wretched, 
foolish women ! why will ye forever sew ? 
" We must not only sew, but be thankful to 
sew ; that little needle being, as the sentimen- 
tal Curtis has said, the only thing between us 
and the worst that may befall." 

These incipient women were engaged in 
various forms of sewing, — the most skilful 



90 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

in a sort of embroidery, like that which forms 
the border of piha handkerchiefs. A few were 
reading and spelling. One poor blind girl sat 
amongst them, with melancholy arms folded, 
and learned nothing, — they told us, nothing ; 
for the instruction of the blind is not thought 
of in these parts. This seemed piteous to us, 
and made us reflect how happy are our Blinds, 
to say nothing of our Deafs and Dumbs. Id- 
iocy is not uncommon here, and is the result 
of continual intermarriage between near re- 
lations ; but it will be long before they will 
provide it with a separate asylum and suit- 
able instruction. 

But now came the saddest part of the 
whole exhibition, — a sight common enough 
in Europe, but by some accident hitherto 
unseen by us. Here is a sort of recepta- 
cle, with three or four compartments, which 
turns on a pivot. One side of it is open to 
the street, and in it the wretched parent lays 
the more wretched baby, — ringing a small 
bell at the same time, for the new admit- 
tance. The parent vanishes, the receptacle 
turns on its pivot, — the baby is within, 



THE BENEFICENZA. 91 

and, we are willing to believe, in merciful 
hands. 

The sight of this made, for the first time, 
the crime real to me. I saw at a flash the 
whole tragedy of desertion, — the cautious 
approach, the frightened countenance, the 
furtive act, and the great avenging pang of 
Nature after its consummation. What was 
Hester Prynne's pillory, compared to the heart 
of any of these mothers ? I thought too of 
Rousseau, bringing to such a place as this 
children who had the right to inherit divine 
genius, and deserting them for the sordid 
reason that he did not choose to earn their 
bread ; — the helpless mother weeping at 
home, and begging, through long years, to 
be allowed to seek and reclaim them. 

"Well, here were the little creatures kindly 
cared for ; yet what a piteous place was their 
nursery ! Some of the recent arrivals looked 
as if ill-usage had been exhausted upon them 
before they were brought hither. Blows and 
drugs and starvation had been tried upon 
them, but, with the tenacity of infancy, they 
clung to life. They would not die; — well 



92 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

then, they should live to regret it. Some of 
them lay on the floor, deformed and helpless ; 
the older ones formed a little class, and were 
going through some elementary exercise when 
we passed. The babies had a large room 
allotted to them, and I found the wet-nurses 
apportioned one to each child. This appeared 
a very generous provision, as in such estab- 
lishments elsewhere, three and even four chil- 
dren are given to one nurse. They had com- 
fortable cribs, on each of which was pinned 
the name of its little inmate, and the date of 
its entrance; — generally, the name and age 
of the child are found written on a slip of 
paper attached to its clothing, when it is left 
in the receptacle. I saw on one, " Cecilio, 
three weeks old." He had been but a few 
days in the establishment. 

Of course, I lingered longest in the babies' 
room, and longest of all near the crib of the 
little Cecilio. He was a pretty baby, and 
seemed to me the most ill-used of all, because 
the youngest. " Could they not bear with 
you three weeks, little fellow ? " I said. " 1 
know those at whose firesides such as you 



THE BENEFICENZA. 93 

would have been welcome guests. That New 
York woman whom I met lately, young, rich, 
and childless, — I could commend you to her 
in place of the snarling little spaniel fiend who 
was her constant care and companion." 

But here the Superintendent made a polite 
bow, saying, — " And now your Worships 
have seen all; for the chapel is undergoing 
repairs, and cannot be visited." And so we 
thanked, and departed. 



94 A TKIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER X. 

can grande's departure. — the dominica. — 
lottery-tickets. 

I have not told you how Can Grande took 
leave of the Isle of Rogues, as one of our 
party christened the fair Queen of the An- 
tilles. I could not tell you how he loathed 
the goings on at Havana, how hateful he 
found the Spaniards, and how villanous the 
American hotel-keepers. His superlatives of 
censure were in such constant employment 
that they began to have a threadbare sound 
before he left us ; and as he has it in prospec- 
tive to run the gauntlet of all the innkeepers 
on the continent of Europe, to say nothing of 
further lands, where innkeepers would be a 
relief, there is no knowing what exhaustion his 
powers in this sort may undergo before he 
reaches us again. He may break down into 
weak, compliant good-nature, and never be 



CAN GRANDE'S DEPARTURE. 95 

able to abuse anybody again, as long as he 
lives. In that case, his past life and his future, 
taken together, will make a very respecta- 
ble average. But the climate really did not 
suit him, the company did not satisfy, and 
there came a moment when he said, " I can 
bear it no longer ! " and we answered, " Go 
in peace!" 

It now becomes me to speak of Sobrina, 
who has long been on a temperance footing, 
and who forgets even to blush when the for- 
mer toddy is mentioned, though she still shud- 
ders at the remembrance of sour-sop. She 
is the business-man of the party ; and while 
philosophy and highest considerations occupy 
the others, with an occasional squabble over 
virtue and the rights of man, she changes 
lodgings, hires carts, transports luggage, and, 
knowing half-a-dozen words of Spanish, makes 
herself clearly comprehensible to- everybody. 
We have found a Spanish steamer for Can 
Grande; but she rows thither in a boat and 
secures his passage and state-room. The 
noontide sun is hot upon the waters, but her 
zeal is hotter still. Now she has made a 



96 .A TKIP TO CUBA. 

curious bargain with her boatmen, by which 
they are to convey the whole party to the 
steamer on the fourth day. 

" What did you tell them ? " we asked. 

" I said, tres noches (three nights) and un dia, 
(one day,) and then took out my watch and 
showed them five o'clock on it, and pointed 
to the boat and to myself. They understood 
perfectly." 

And so, in truth, they did ; for, going to the 
wharf on the day and at the hour appointed, 
we found the boatmen in waiting, with eager 
faces. But here a new difficulty presented 
itself; — the runner of our hotel, a German 
whose Cuban life has sharpened his wits 
and blunted his conscience, insisted that the 
hiring of boats for the lodgers was one of his 
(many) perquisites, and that before his sov- 
ereign prerogative all other agreements were 
null and void. — N. B. There was always 
something experimentative about this man's 
wickedness. He felt that he did not know 
how far men might be gulled, or the point 
where they would be likely to resist. This 
was a fault of youth. With increasing years 



CAN GRANDE'S DEPARTURE. 97 

and experience he will grow bolder and more 
skilful, and bids fair, we should say, to be- 
come one of the most dexterous operators 
known in his peculiar line. On the present 
occasion he did not heed the piteous plead- 
ings of the disappointed boatmen, nor Sobri- 
na's explanations, nor Can Grande's argu- 
ments. But when the whole five of us fixed 
upon him our mild and scornful eyes, some- 
thing within him gave way. He felt a little 
bit of the moral pressure of Boston, and fee- 
bly broke down, saying, " You better do as 
you like, then," and so the point was carried. 
A pleasant row brought us to the side of the 
steamer. It was dusk already as we ascended 
her steep gangway, and from that to darkness 
there is, at this season, but the interval of a 
breath. Dusk too were our thoughts, at part- 
ing from Can Grande, the mighty, the ve- 
hement, the great fighter. How were we to 
miss his deep music, here and at home ! With 
his assistance we had made a very respectable 
band ; now we were to be only a wandering 
drum and fife, — the fife particularly shrill, and 
the drum particularly solemn. Well, we went 



98 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

below, and examined the little den where Can 
Grande was to pass the other seven days of 
his tropical voyaging. The berths were ar- 
ranged the wrong way, — across, not along, 
the vessel, — and we foresaw that his head 
would go up and his feet down, and vice 
versd, with every movement of the steamer, 
and our weak brains reeled at the bare thought 
of what he was to suffer. He, good soul, 
meanwhile was thinking of his supper, and 
wondering if he could get tea, coffee, and 
chocolate, a toasted roll, and the touch of cold 
ham which an invalid loves. And we beheld, 
and they were bringing up the side of the ves- 
sel trays of delicious pastry, and festoons of 
fowls, with more literal butcher's meat. And 
we said, " There will be no famine on board. 
Make the most of your supper, Can Grande ; 
for it will be the last of earth to you, for some 
time to come." And now came silence, and 
tears, and last embraces ; we slipped down the 
gangway into our little craft, and looking up, 
saw bending above us, between the slouched 
hat and the silver beard, the eyes that we can 
never forget, that seemed to drop back in the 



THE DOMINICA. 99 

darkness with the solemnity of a last farewell. 
We went home, and the drum hung himself 
gloomily on his peg, and the little fife shut up 
for the remainder of the evening. 

Has Mr. Dana described the Dominica, I 
wonder? Well, if he has, I cannot help it. 
He never can have eaten so many ices there 
as I have, nor passed so many patient hours 
amid the screeching, chattering, and devouring, 
which make it most like a cage of strange 
birds, or the monkey department in the Jardin 
des Plantes.' — Mem. I always observed that 
the monkeys just mentioned seemed far more 
mirthful than their brethren in the London 
Zoological Gardens. They form themselves, 
so to speak, on a livelier model, and feel 
themselves more at home with their hosts. 

But the Dominica. You know, probably, 
that it is the great cafe of Havana. All the 
day long it is full of people of all nations, 
sipping ices, chocolate, and so on ; and all 
night long, also, up to the to me very ques- 
tionable hour when its patrons go home and 
its gargons go to bed. We often found it a 
welcome refuge at noon, when the douche of 



100 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

sunlight on one's cervix bewilders the facul- 
ties, and confuses one's principles of gravita- 
tion, toleration, etc., etc. You enter from the 
Tophet of the street, and the intolerable glare 
is at once softened to a sort of golden shadow. 
The floor is of stone ; in the midst trickles a 
tiny fountain with gilded network; all other 
available space is crowded with marble tables, 
square or round ; and they in turn are scarce- 
ly visible for the swarm of black-coats that 
gather round them. The smoke of innumera- 
ble cigars gives a Kembrandtic tinge to the 
depths of the picture, and the rows and 
groups of nodding Panama hats are like very 
dull flower-beds. In the company, of course, 
the Spanish- Cuban element largely predomi- 
nates ; yet here and there the sharper English 
breaks upon the ear. 

" Yes, I went to that plantation ; but they 
have only one thousand boxes of sugar, and 
we want three thousand for our operation." 

A Yankee, you say. Yes, certainly ; and 
turning, you see the tall, strong Philadelphian 
from our hotel, who calls for everything by its 
right name, and always says, " Mas ! mas ! " 



THE DOMINICA. 101 

when the waiter helps him to ice. Some one 
near us is speaking a fuller English, with a 
richer " r " and deeper intonation. See there ! 
that is our own jolly captain, Brownie ss of 
ours, the King of the " Karnak " ; and going 
up to the British lion, we shake the noble 
beast heartily by the paw. 

The people about us are imbibing a variety 
of cooling liquids. Our turn comes at last. 
The gargon who says, " I speke Aingliss," 
brings us each a delicious orange granizada, 
a sort of half-frozen water-ice, familiar to 
Italy, but unknown in America. It is ice in 
the first enthusiasm of freezing, — condensed, 
not hardened. Promoting its liquefaction with 
the spoon, you enjoy it through the mediation 
of a straw. The unskilful .make strange noises 
and gurglings through this tenuis avena; but 
to those who have not forgotten the accom- 
plishment of suction, as acquired at an early 
period of existence, the modus in quo is easy 
and agreeable. 

You will hardly weary of watching the 
groups that come and go, and sit and talk in 
this dreamy place. If you are a lady, every 



102 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

black eye directs its full, tiresome stare at your 
face, no matter how plain that face may be. 
But you have learned before this to consider 
those eyes as so many black dots, so many 
marks of wonder with no sentence attached ; 
and so you coolly pursue your philosophizing 
in your corner, strong in the support of a com- 
panion who, though deeply humanitarian and 
peaceful, would not hesitate to punch any 
number of Spanish heads that should be 
necessary for the maintenance of your com- 
fort and his dignity. 

The scene is occasionally varied by the 
appearance of a beggar-woman, got up in 
great decency, and with a wonderful air of 
pinched and faded gentility. She wears an 
old shawl upon her, head, but it is as nicely 
folded as an aristocratic mantilla ; her feet are 
cased in the linen slippers worn by the poorer 
classes, but there are no unsavory rags and 
dirt about her. "That good walk of yours, 
friend," I thought, " does not look like starva- 
tion." Yet, if ever there were a moment 
when one's heart should soften towards an 
imposing fellow-creature, it is when one is 



LOTTERY-TICKETS. 103 

in the midst of the orange granizada. The 
beggar circles slowly and mournfully round 
all the marble tables in turn, holding out her 
hand to each, as the plate is offered at a 
church collection. She is not importunate; 
but looking in each one's face, seems to 
divine whether he will give or no. A Yan- 
kee, sitting with a Spaniard, offers her his 
cigar. The Spaniard gravely pushes the cigar 
away, and gives her a medio. 

More pertinacious is the seller of lottery- 
tickets, male or female, who has more at 
stake, and must run the risk of your dis- 
pleasure for the chance of your custom. 
Even in your bed you are hardly safe from 
the ticket-vender. You stand at your win- 
dow, and he, waiting in the street, perceives 
you, and with nods, winks, and showing of 
his wares endeavors to establish a communi- 
cation with you. Or you stop and wait some- 
where in your volante, and in the twinkling 
of an eye the wretch is at your side, to bear 
you company till you drive off again. At 
the Dominica he is especially persevering, and 
stands and waits with as much zeal as if he 



.104 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

knew the saintly line of Milton. Like the 
beggar, however, he is discriminative in the 
choice of his victims, and persecutes the stony- 
Yankee less than the oily Spaniard, whose 
inbred superstitions force him to believe in 
luck. 

Very strange stories do they tell about the 
trade in lottery-tickets, — strange at least to 
us, who consider them the folly of follies. 
Here, as in Italy, the lotteries are under the 
care of the State, and their administration is 
as careful and important as that of any other 
branch of finance. They are a regular and 
even reputable mode of investment. The 
wealthy commercial houses all own tickets, 
sometimes keeping the same number for years, 
but more frequently changing after each un- 
successful experiment. A French gentleman 
in Havana assured me that his tickets had 
already cost him seven thousand dollars. 
" And now," said he, " I cannot withdraw, for 
I cannot lose what I have already paid. The 
number has not been up once in eight years ; 
its turn must come soon. If I were to sell 
my ticket, some one would be sure to draw 



LOTTERY-TICKETS. 105 

the great prize with it the week after." This, 
perhaps, is not very unlike the calculations 
of business risks most in vogue in our great 
cities. A single ticket costs an ounce (seven- 
teen dollars) ; but you are constantly offered 
fractions, to an eighth or a sixteenth. There 
are ticket-brokers who accommodate the poor- 
er classes with interests to the amount of ten 
cents, and so on. Thus, for them, the lottery 
replaces the savings-bank, with entire uncer- 
tainty of any return, and the demoralizing 
process of expectation thrown into the bar- 
gain. The negroes invest a good deal of 
money in this way, and we heard in Matanzas 
a curious anecdote on this head. A number 
of negroes, putting their means together, had 
commissioned a ticket-broker to purchase and 
hold for them a certain ticket. After long 
waiting and paying up, news came to Matan- 
zas that the ticket had drawn the $100,000 
prize. The owners of the negroes were in 
despair at this intelligence. " Now my cook 
will buy himself," says one ; " my calesero will 
be free," says another ; and so on. The poor 
slaves ran, of course, in great agitation, to get 

5* 



106 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

their money. But, lo ! the office was shut up. 
The rascal broker had absconded. He had 
never run the risk of purchasing the ticket; 
but had coolly appropriated this and simi- 
lar investments to his own use, preferring 
the bird in the hand to the whole aviary of 
possibilities. He was never heard of more ; 
but should he ever turn up anywhere, I com- 
mend him as the fittest subject for Lynch- 
law on record. 

Well, as I have told you, all these gold- 
en chances wait for you at the Dominica, 
and many Americans buy, and look very 
foolish when they acknowledge it. The 
Nassauese all bought largely during their 
short stay ; and even their little children 
held up with exultation their fragments of 
tickets, all good for something, and bad for 
something, too. 

If you visit the Dominica in the evening, 
you find the same crowd, only with a sprink- 
ling of women, oftenest of your own country, 
in audacious bonnets, and with voices and 
laughter which bring the black eyes upon 
them for a time. If it be Sunday evening, you 



THE DOMINICA. 107 

will see here and there groups of ladies in full 
ball-dress, fresh from the Paseo, the volante 
waiting for them outside. All is then at its 
gayest and busiest ; but your favorite waiter, 
with disappointment in his eyes, will tell you 
that there is " no mas " of your favorite gran- 
izada, and will persuade you to take I know 
not what nauseous substitute in its place; 
for all ices are not good at the Dominica, and 
some are (excuse the word) nasty. People sit 
and sip, prolonging their pleasures with dila- 
tory spoon and indefatigable tongue. Group 
follows group ; but the Spaniards are what I 
should call heavy sitters, and tarry long over 
their ice or chocolate. The waiter invariably 
brings to every table a chafing-dish with a 
burning coal, which will light a cigar long 
after its outer glow has subsided into ashy 
white. Some humans retain this kindling 
power; — vide Ninon and the ancient Goe- 
the; — it is the heart of fire, not the flame 
of beauty, that does it. When one goes 
home, tired, at ten or eleven, the company 
shows no sign of thinning, nor does one im- 
agine how the ground is ever cleared, so as to 



108 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

allow an interval of sleep between the last ice 
at night and the first coffee in the morning. 
It is the universal siesta which makes the 
Cubans so bright and fresh in the evening. 
"With all this, their habits are sober, and the 
evening refreshment always light. No suppers 
are eaten here ; and it is even held dangerous 
to take fruit as late as eight o'clock, p. m. 

The Dominica has still another aspect to 
you, when you go there in the character of 
a Citizen and Head of family to order West 
India sweetmeats for home-consumption. 
You utter the magic word dulces, and are 
shown with respect into the establishment 
across the way, where a neat steam-engine 
is in full operation, tended by blacks and 
whites, stripped above the waist, and with 
no superfluous clothing below it. Here they 
grind the chocolate, and make the famous 
preserves, of which a list is shown you, with 
prices affixed. As you will probably lose 
some minutes in perplexity as to which are 
best for you to order, let me tell you that the 
guava jelly and marmalade are first among 
them, and" there is no second. You may 



THE DOMINICA. 109 

throw in a little pine-apple, mamey, lime, and 
cocoa-plum ; but the guava is the thing, and, 
in case of a long run on the tea-table, will 
give the most effectual support. The limes 
used to be famous in our youth ; but in these 
days they make them hard and tough. The 
marmalade of bitter oranges is one of the 
most useful of Southern preserves ; but I do 
not remember it on the list of the Dominica. 
Having given your order, let me further ad- 
vise you to remain, if practicable, and see it 
fulfilled ; as you will otherwise find divers 
trifling discrepancies between the bill and 
the goods delivered, which, though of course 
purely accidental, will all be, somehow, to the 
Dominica's advantage, and not to yours. If 
you are in moderate circumstances, order eight 
or ten dollars' worth ; if affluent, twenty or 
thirty dollars' worth ; if rash and extravagant, 
you may rise even to sixty dollars ; but you 
will find in such an outlay food for repent- 
ance. One word in your ear : do not buy 
the syrups, for they are made with very bad 
sugar, and have no savor of the fruits they 
represent. 



110 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

And this is all I can tell about the Domin- 
ica, which I recommend to all of you for re- 
freshment and amusement. "We have nothing 
like it in New York or Boston, — our salons 
of the same description having in them much 
more to eat, and much less to see. As I look 
back upon it, the place assumes a deeply- 
Moorish aspect. I see the fountain, the gold- 
en light, the dark faces, and intense black 
eyes, a little softened by the comforting dis- 
tance. Oh ! to sit there for one hour, and 
help the gargonh bad English, and be pestered 
by the beggar, and tormented by the ticket- 
vender, and support the battery of the won- 
dering looks, which make it sin for you, a 
woman, to be abroad by day ! Is there any 
Purgatory which does not grow lovely as you 
remember it ? Would not a man be hanged 
twice, if he could? 



COMPANY AT THE HOTEL. Ill 



CHAPTEE XL 

COMPANY AT THE HOTEL. — SERVANTS. OUR 

DRIVE. DON PEPE. 

I do not mean to give portraits of the indi- 
viduals at our hotel. My chance acquaint- 
ance with them confers on me no right to ap- 
propriate their several characteristics for my 
own convenience and the diversion of the 
public. . I will give only such general sketches 
as one may make of a public body at a 
respectful distance, marking no features that 
can fix or offend. 

Our company is almost entirely composed 
of two classes, — invalids and men of busi- 
ness, with or without their families. The 
former are easily recognizable by their sad 
eyes and pallid countenances ; even the hec- 
tic of disease does not deceive you, — it has 
no affinity to the rose of health, There is the 
cough, too, — the cruel cough that would not 



112 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

be left at the North, that breaks out through 
all the smothering by day, and shakes the 
weak frame with uneasy rocking by night. 

The men of business are apt to name their 
firm, when they introduce themselves to you. 

" My name is Norval, Sir, — Norval, Gram- 
pian, & Company. I suppose you know the 
firm." 

We do not, indeed; but we murmur, in 
return, that we have an Uncle or a Cousin in 
business, who may, very likely, know it. 

" What is your Uncle's firm ? " will be the 
next question. 

" Philpots Brothers." 

"Excellent people, — we have often done 
business with them. Happy to make your 
acquaintance, Sir." 

And so, the first preliminaries being estab- 
lished, and each party assured of the other's 
solvency, we glide easily into a relation of 
chat and kind little mutualities which causes 
the periods of contact to pass smoothly 
enough. 

We found among these some manly, 
straightforward fellows, to whom one would 



COMPANY AT THE HOTEL. 113 

confide one's fortunes, or even one's widow 
and orphans, with small fear of any flaw in 
their trustworthiness. Nor was the more slip- 
pery class, we judged, without its representa- 
tives ; but of this we had only hints, not expe- 
rience. There were various day-boarders, who 
frequented our table only, and lodged else- 
where. A few of these were decorous Span- 
iards, who did not stare, nor talk, nor gobble 
their meals with unbecoming vivacity of appe- 
tite. They were obviously staid business-men, 
differing widely in character from the street 
Spaniard, whom I have already copiously de- 
scribed. Some were Germans, thinned by the 
climate, and sharpened up to the true Yankee 
■ point of competition; very little smack of 
Father-land was left about them, — no song, 
no sentimentality, not much quivering of the 
heart-strings at remembrance of the old folks 
at home, whom some of them have not seen 
in twenty years, and will never see again. To 
be sure, in such a hard life as theirs, with no 
social surroundings, and grim Death meeting 
them at every corner, there is nothing for it 
but to be as hard and tough as one's circum- 



114 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

stances. But give me rather the German 
heart in the little old German village, 'with the 
small earnings and spendings, the narrow 
sphere of life and experience, and the great 
vintage of geniality which is laid up from 
youth to age, and handed down with the old 
wine from father to son. I don't like your 
cosmopolitan German any better than I do 
your Englishman done to death with travel. 
I prize the home-flavor in all the races that are 
capable of home. There are very many Ger- 
mans scattered throughout Cuba, in various 
departments of business. They are generally 
successful, and make very good Yankees, in 
the technical acceptation of the word. Their 
original soundness of constitution enables* 
them to resist the climate better than Amer- 
icans, and though they lose flesh and color, 
they rarely give that evidence of a disordered 
liver which foreign residents in tropical coun- 
tries are so apt to show. 

The ladies at the hotel were all our own 
countrywomen, as we see them at home and 
abroad. I have already spoken of their dili- 
gence in sewing, and of their enthusiasm in 



COMPANY AT THE HOTEL. 115 

shopping. Their other distinctive features are 
too familiar to us to require illustration. Yet 
upon one trait I will adventure. A group of 
them sat peaceably together, one day, when a 
file of newspapers arrived, with full details of 
a horrible Washington scandal, and the murder 
consequent upon it. Now I must say that no 
swarm of bees ever settled upon a bed of roses 
more eagerly than our fair sisters pounced up- 
on the carrion of that foul and dreadful tale. 
It flew from hand to hand and from mouth to 
mouth, as if it had been glad tidings of great 
joy, — and the universal judgment upon it 
caused our heart to shudder with the remem- 
brance that we had heard some one some- 
where propose that female offenders should 
be tried by a jury of their own sex. 

It was a real comfort, a few days later, to 
hear this sad subject discussed by a circle 
of intelligent Englishwomen, with good sense 
and good feeling, and with true appreciation 
of the twofold crime, the domestic treason and 
the public assassination. In passing, I must 
say of this English circle that it is charming, 
and that the Britannic Consul has the key of 



116 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

it in his pocket. Wherefore, if any of you, 
my friends, would desire to know four of the 
most charming women in Havana, he is to lay 
hold upon Mr. Consul Crawford, and compel 
him to become his friend. 

Mr. Dana recounts his shopping in Havana, 
whereof the beginning and ending were one 
dress, white and blue, which he commendably 
purchased for his wife. But does Dana know 
what he had to be thankful for, in getting off 
with one dress ? Tell him, ye patient hus- 
bands, whose pockets seem to be made like 
lemons, only to be squeezed ! Tell him, ye 
insatiate ones, who have new wants and new 
ideas every day ! Dana's dress was, probably, 
an holan batista, which he calls " Bolan " ; — 
it was, in other words, a figured linen cambric. 
But you have bought those cambrics by the 
piece, and also pinas, thin, gossamer fabrics, of 
all degrees of color and beauty, sometimes 
with pattern flounces, — do you hear ? And 
you have bought Spanish table-cloths with 
red or blue edges, with bull-fights on them, 
and balioon-ascensions, and platoons of sol- 
diery in review, and with bull-fighting and 



SERVANTS. 117 

ballooning napkins to match. And you have 
secured such bales o£ transparent white mus- 
lins, that one would think you intended to fur- 
nish a whole troupe of ballet-girls with saucer 
petticoats. Catalan lace you have got, to 
trim curtains, sheets, pillow-cases, and kitchen- 
towels with. And as for your fans, we only 
hope that the stories you tell about them are 
true, and that Kitty, Julia, and Jemima at 
home are to divide them with you ; for we 
shrewdly suspect that you mean, after all, to 
keep them, and to have a fan for every day in 
the year. Let a man reflect upon all this, 
added to the inevitable three dollars and fifty 
cents per diem, with the frequent refreshment 
of volantes and ices at the Dominica, and then 
say whether it pays to take a partner, not of 
a frugal mind, to Havana for the season. 

I had intended to give some account of the 
servants at Mrs. Almy's ; but my gossip runs 
to such lengths that I must dismiss them with 
a few words. Ramon, the porter, never leaves 
the vestibule ; he watches there all day, takes 
his meals there, plays cards there in the even- 
ing with his fellow-servants, and at night 



118 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

spreads his cot there, and lies down to sleep. 
He is white, as are most of the others. If I 
have occasion to go into the kitchen at night, 
I find a cot there also, with no bed, and a 
twisted sheet upon it, which, I am told, is the 
chrysalis of the cook. Said cook is a free 
yellow, from Nassau, who has wrought in this 
kitchen for many years past. Heat, hard 
work, and they say drink, have altogether 
brought him to a bad pass. His legs are 
frightfully swollen, and in a few days he 
leaves, unable to continue his function. 
Somebody asks after his wife. " She has 
got a white husband now," he tells us, with 
a dejected air. She might have waited a lit- 
tle, — he is to die soon. 

Garcia is the kind waiter with the rather 
expressive face, who is never weary of bring- 
ing us the rice and fried plantain which form, 
after all, the staple of our existence in Cuba. 
The waiters all do as well as they can, consid- 
ering the length of the table, and the extreme- 
ly short staple of the boarders' patience. As 
a general rule, they understand good English 
better than bad Spanish ; but comparative phi- 



SERVANTS. 119 

lology has obviously been neglected among 
them. 

Luis is a negro boy of twelve, fearfully 
black in the face and white in the eye ; his 
wool cropped to entire bareness. He is chiefly 
good at dodging your orders, — disappears 
when anything is asked for, but does not 
return with it. 

Rosalia is the chambermaid, of whom I 
have already spoken, as dexterous in sweeping 
the mosquitos from the nets, — her afternoon 
service. She brings, too, the morning cup of 
coffee, and always says, " Good morning, Sir ; 
you want cofTee ? " — the only English she can 
speak. Her voice and smile are particularly 
sweet, her person tall and well-formed, and her 
face comely and modest. She is not alto- 
gether black, — about mahogany color. I 
mention her modesty because, so far as I 
saw, the good-looking ones among the black 
women have an air of assumption, and al- 
most of impudence, — probably the result of 
flattery. 

With all this array of very respectable 
" help," our hostess avers that she has not a 



120 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

single person about her whom she can trust. 
Hence the weary look about her eyes and 
brow, speaking of a load never laid down. 
She attends to every detail of business her- 
self, and is at work over her books long after 
her boarders have retired to rest. 

But the one of all the servants who interests 
us most is Alexander, Mrs. Almy's own slave. 
He is, like Rosalia, of mahogany color, with 
a broad forehead and intelligent eyes. His 
proud, impatient nature is little suited to his 
position, and every day brings some new 
account of his petulant outbreaks. To-day 
he quarrelled with the new cook, and drew 
a knife upon him. Mrs. Almy threatens con- 
tinually to sell him, and at this the hearts of 
some of us grow very sick, — for she always 
says that his spirit must be broken, that only 
the severest punishment will break it, and that 
she cannot endure to send him to receive that 
punishment. What that mysterious ordeal 
may be, we dare not question, — we who can- 
not help him from it ; we can only wish that 
he might draw that knife across his own throat 
before he undergoes it. He is trying to buy 



SERVANTS. 121 

his own freedom, and has something saved 
towards it. He looks as if he would do good 
service, with sufficient training. As it is, he 
probably knows no law, save the two conflict- 
ing ones, of necessity and his own wild pas- 
sions. One of the sad thoughts we shall carry 
away from here will be that Alexander is to 
be sold, and his spirit broken. Good Mrs. 
Almy, do have a little patience with him ! 
Enlighten his dark mind ; let Christianity be 
taught him, which will show him, even in his 
slave's estate, that he can conquer his fellow- 
servant better than by drawing a knife upon 
him. Set him free ? Ah ! that is past pray- 
ing for ; but, as he has the right to buy him- 
self, give him every chance of doing so, and 
we, your petitioners, will pray for him, and for 
you who need it, with that heavy brow of 
care. 

I have called the negroes of Nassau ugly, 
clumsy, and unserviceable. The Cuban ne- 
groes make, so far, a very different impression 
upon me. One sees among them considerable 
beauty of form, and their faces are more ex- 
pressive and better cut than those of the Nas- 



122 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

sau blacks. The women are well-made, and 
particularly well-poised, standing perfectly- 
straight from top to toe, with no hitch or 
swing in their gait. Beauty of feature is not 
so common among them ; still, one meets 
with it here and there. There is a massive 
sweep in the bust and arms of the women 
which is very striking. Even in their faces, 
there is a certain weight of feature and of 
darkness, which makes its own impression. 
The men have less grace of movement, though 
powerful and athletic in their make. Those 
who are employed at hard work, within-doors, 
wear very little clothing, being stripped to the 
loins. One often has a glimpse of them, in 
passing the open smithies and wheelwrights' 
shops. The greatest defect among the men is 
the want of calf. The narrow boots of the 
postilions make this particularly discernible. 
Such a set of spindleshanks I never saw, not 
even in Trumbull's famous Declaration of In- 
dependence, in which we have the satisfaction 
of assuring ourselves that the fathers of our 
liberty had two legs apiece, and crossed them 
in concert with the utmost regularity. One 



OUE DRIVE. 123 

might think, at first, that these narrow boots 
were as uncomfortable to the calesero as the 
Scottish instrument of torture of that name ; 
but his little swagger when he is down, and 
his freedom in kicking when he is up, show 
that he has ample room in them. 

Very jolly groups of Spanish artisans does 
one see in the open shops at noon, gathered 
around a table. The board is chiefly adorned 
with earthen jars of an ancient pattern rilled 
with oil and wine, platters of bread and sau- 
sage, — and the ever fragrant onion is gener- 
ally perceptible. The personal qualities of 
these men are quite unknown to us ; but they 
have an air of good-fellowship which gives 
pleasure. 

We hired a carriage this afternoon, — we 
and two others from Boston. We had a four- 
wheeled barouche, with two horses, which costs 
two dollars an hour ; whereas a volante can be 
hired only at eight dollars and a half per whole 
afternoon, — no less time, no less money. As 
it holds but two, or, at the utmost, three, this 
is paying rather dear for the glory of showing 
one's self on the Paseo. The moment we 



124 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

were in the carriage, our coachman nodded to 
us, and saying, " a la tropa" galloped off with 
us in an unknown direction. "We soon fell in 
with a line of other carriages, and concluded 
that there was something to be seen some- 
where, and that we were going to see it. Nor 
were we mistaken ; for in due time, ascending 
a steep acclivity, we came upon " la tropa" 
and found some ten thousand soldiers under- 
going review, in their seersucker coats and 
Panama hats, which, being very like the cos- 
tume of an easy Wall- Street man in August, 
had a very peaceful appearance on so military 
an occasion. The cavalry and infantry had 
nearly concluded their evolutions when we 
arrived. The troops were spread out on a 
vast plateau. The view was magnificent. 
The coachman pointed to one immovable 
figure on horseback, and said, " Concha." 
We found it was indeed the Captain- Gen- 
eral ; for as the different bands passed, they 
all saluted him, and he returned their cour- 
tesy. Unluckily, his back was towards us, 
and so remained until he rode off in an oppo- 
site direction. He was mounted on a white 



OUR DRIVE. 125 

horse, and was dressed like the others. He 
seemed erect and well-made ; but his back, 
after all, was very like any one else's back. 
Query, — Did we see Concha, or did we not ? 
When all was over, the coachman carefully 
descended the hill. He had come hither in 
haste, wishing to witness the sport himself; 
but now he drove slowly, and indulged in 
every sort of roundabout to spin out his time 
and our money. We met with a friend who, 
on our complaint, expostulated with him, and 
said, — " Senor, these gentlemen say that you 
drive them very slowly (muy poco a poco)." 
To the which he, — " Senor, if gentlemen will 
hire a carriage by the hour, and not by the 
afternoon, they must expect to get on very 
softly." — Mem. A white driver is always 
addressed as Senor, and I have occasionally 
heard such monologues as the following: — 
" Senor, why do you drive me this way ? 
Curse you, Senor! You don't know any- 
thing, Senor ! You are the greatest ass I ever 
encountered." The coachman takes it all 
coolly enough ; the " Senor " spares his dig- 
nity, and he keeps his feelings to himself. 



126 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

The writer of this has already spoken of 
various disappointments, in the way of seeing 
things, incidental to the position of the sex in 
Cuba. She came abroad prepared for micro- 
scopic, telescopic, and stereoscopic investiga- 
tion, — but, hedged in on all sides by cus- 
tom and convenience, she often observed only- 
four very bare walls and two or three very 
stupid people. What could she see ? Pris- 
ons ? No. Men naked and filthy, lying about, 
using very unedifying language, and totally 
unaccustomed to the presence of Lady-vis- 
itors. She invoked the memory of Mrs. Fry 
and the example of Miss Dix. " Oh, they 
were saints, you know." " Only because they 
went to prisons, which you won't let me 
do." — Bull-fight? No„ " How could you go 
back to Boston after seeing a bull-fight, eh ? " 
" As if married life were anything else, eh ? " 
And so on. — Negro ball ? " Not exactly the 
place for a lady." " Miss Bremer went." 
" Very differently behaved woman from you." 
" Yes, virtue with a nose, impregnable." 

But there is something she can go to see, — 
at least, some one, — the angelic man, Don 



DON PEPE. 127 

Pepe, the wise, the gentle, the fearless, whom 
all the good praise. Yes, she shall go to see 
Don Pepe ; and one burning Sunday noon she 
makes a pilgrimage through the scorching 
streets, and comes where he may be inquired 
for, and is shown up a pair of stairs, at the 
head of which stands the angelic man, mild 
and bland, with great, dark eyes, and a gra- 
cious countenance. He ushers us into a room 
furnished with nothing but books, and finds 
two chairs for us and one for himself, not 
without research. 

Now I will not pretend to say that Don 
Pepe occupied himself with me after the first 
kind greeting, nor that my presence occasioned 
him either pleasure or surprise. My compan- 
ion was a man after his own heart, and, at 
first sight, the two mounted their humani- 
tarian hobbies, and rode them till they were 
tired. And when this time came, I went 
away and said nothing. Yet I knew that I 
had seen a remarkable man. 

Don Pepe de la Luz is a Cuban by birth, 
and his age may number some sixty years. 
He inherited wealth and its advantages, hav- 



128 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

ing received somewhere a first-rate education, 
to which be has copiously added in subsequent 
years. He is a Liberal in politics and relig- 
ion, a man of great reason and of great heart. 
In affairs of state, however, he meddles not, 
but contents himself with making statesmen. 
Like all wise Philanthropists, he sees the 
chief source of good to man in education, and 
devotes his life, and in a degree, his fortune, to 
this object. The building in which we found 
him was a large school, or rather college, 
founded by himself, and carried on in a great 
measure through his efforts. This college is 
upon the same literary footing as the Univer- 
sity of Havana ; and Don Pepe's graduates 
pass examinations and receive diplomas in 
the last-named institution. He himself rarely 
leaves its walls ; and though he has house and 
wife elsewhere, and the great world is every- 
where open to him, he leads here a more 
congenial life of ascetic seclusion, study, and 
simplicity. 

" Oh, noble instinct of good men, to stay and do their 
duty ! 
This let us celebrate above all daring, wit, and beauty." 



DON PEPE. 129 

Don Pepe has been abroad as much as it 
profits a man to be, — but has not lost his 
own soul there, as an American is apt to do. 
He has known the best men in Europe and 
America. The best languages, he possesses 
them ; the best books, here they are, piled all 
about his room. The floor is carpeted with 
them ; there are cases all around the walls ; 
and a large parallelogramic arrangement in 
the middle of the room, stuck all with books, 
as a pincushion with pins. True, there is not 
in their arrangement that ornateness of order 
observable in Northern libraries ; dust even 
lies and blows about ; and though he can find 
his favorites, we should be much puzzled to 
find any volume where it ought to be. But it 
looks as if the master were happy and undis- 
turbed here, and as if the housemaid and her 
hated broom were as far off as the snow and 
frost. 

In person, Don Pepe is not above the mid- 
dle height. He is a fairly developed man, but 
looks thin and worn, and his shoulders have 
the stoop of age, which scholars mostly an- 
ticipate. His face is much corrugated, but it 

6 * 



130 A TE1P TO CUBA. 

bears the traces of vivacious thought and 
emotion, not the withering print of passion. 
Of his eyes I have already spoken ; they are 
wise, kind, and full of Southern fire. 

Don Pepe has had some annoyances from 
the government, — probably in the more san- 
guine period of his life. The experience of 
years has taught him the secret of living 
peaceably with all men. He can be great 
and good himself, without perpetually quar- 
relling with those who can be neither. He 
spoke with warm interest of his scholars. 
" They have much capacity," he said ; " but 
we want a little more of that air you spoke 
of just now, Doctor." That air was Liberty. 
Reader, have you ever been in a place where 
her name was contraband? All such places 
are alike. Here, as in Eome, men who have 
thoughts disguise them ; and painful circum- 
locution conveys the meaning of friend to 
friend. For treachery lies hid, like the scor- 
pion, under your pillow, and your most trusted 
companion will betray your head, to save his 
own. I am told that this sub-treason reached, 
in the days of the Lopez invasion, an incredi- 



DON PEPE. 131 

ble point. After every secret meeting of those 
affected to the invaders, each conspirator ran 
to save himself by denouncing all the others. 
One Cuban, of large fortune and small reputa- 
tion, being implicated in these matters, brought 
General Concha a list of all his confederates, 
which Concha burned before his face, unread. 
Piteous, laughable spectacle ! Better be mon- 
keys than such men ; yet such work does 
Absolutism in government and religion make 
of the noble human creature! God preserve 
us ever from tyrants, spies, and Jesuits! 

Don Pepe does not tell us this ; but we 
have much pleasant talk with him about 
books, about great men in Europe, and lastly 
about Prescott, whom he knew and honored. 
"We took leave of him with regret. He ac- 
companied us to the head of the stairs, and 
then said, " Ah ! my dear Madam, my liver 
will not suffer me to go down." " I am glad 
it is not your heart," I rejoined, and we 
parted, — to meet again, in my thoughts, 
and perhaps elsewhere, in the dim vista of 
the future. 



132 A TEIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER XII. 

MATANZAS. 

A hot and dusty journey of some six hours 
brought us to Matanzas at high noon. Our 
companions were Cubans, Spaniards, Ameri- 
cans, and game-chickens, who travel exten- 
sively in these parts, sometimes in little bas- 
kets, with openings for the head and tail, 
sometimes in the hands of their owners, se- 
cured only by a string fastened to one foot 
and passed over the body. They seem to be 
objects of tender solicitude to those who carry 
them ; they are nursed and fondled like chil- 
dren, and at intervals are visited all round by a 
negro, who fills his mouth with water, and 
squirts it into their eyes and under their feath- 
ers. They are curiously plucked on the back 
and about the tail, where only the long tail- 
feathers are allowed to grow. Their tameness 
in the hands of their masters is quite remark- 



MATANZAS. 133 

able ; they suffer themselves to be turned and 
held in any direction. But when set down, at 
any stage of the journey, they stamp their 
little feet, stretch their necks, crow, and look 
about them for the other cock with most bel- 
ligerent eyes. As we have said that the negro 
of the North is an ideal negro, so we must 
say that the game-cock of Cuba is an ideal 
chicken, a fowl that is too good to be killed, 
— clever enough to fight for people who are 
too indolent and perhaps too cowardly to 
fight for themselves, — in short, the Gladiator 
of the Tropics. 

Well, as we have said, we and they arrived 
at our journey's end in the extreme heat of 
the day ; and having shown our paper and 
demanded our trunks, we beat an instantane- 
ous retreat before the victorious Monarch of 
the skies, and lo ! the Ensor House, dirty, 
bare, and comfortless, was to us as a fortress 
and a rock of defence. 

Here I would gladly pause, and giving vent 
to my feelings, say how lovely I found Matan- 
zas. But ever since Byron's time, the author 
is always hearing the public say, " Don't be 



134 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

poetical," etc., etc.; and in these days both 
writer and reader seem to have discovered 
that life is too short for long descriptions, — 
so that when the pen of a G. P. It. James, 
waiting for the inspirations of its master, has 
amused itself with sketching a greater or 
less extent of natural scenery, the rule of the 
novel-reader is invariably, " Skip landscape, 
etc., to event on thirty-second page." Nev- 
ertheless, I will say that Matanzas is lovely, 
— with the fair harbor on one hand and the 
fair hills on the other, sitting like a mother 
between two beautiful daughters, w r ho looks 
from one to the other and wonders which she 
loves best. The air from the water is cool 
and refreshing, the sky is clear and open, and 
the country around seems to beckon one to 
the green bosom of its shades. " Oh, what a 
relief after Havana ! " one says, drawing a full 
breath, and remembering with a shudder the 
sickening puffs from its stirring streets, which 
make you think that Polonius lies unburied 
in every house, and that you nose him as 
you knows not, as you pass the door and 
window-gratings. With this exclamation and 



MATANZAS. 125 

remembrance, you lower yourself into one 
of Mr. Ensor's rocking-chairs, — twelve of 
which, with a rickety table and a piano, 
four crimson tidies and six white ones, form 
the furniture of the Ensor drawing-room, — 
you lean your head on your hand, close 
your eyes, and wish for a comfortable room 
with a bed in it. A tolerable room you shall 
have ; but for a bed, only a cot-bedstead with 
a sacking bottom, — further, nothing. Now, 
if you are some folks that I know, you 
will be able to establish very comfortable 
repose' on this slender foundation, Nature 
having so amply furnished you that you are 
your own feather-bed, bolster, sofa-cushion, 
and easy-chair, a moving mass of upholstery, 
wanting only a frame to be set down in and 
supported. But if you should be one of Bos- 
ton's normal skeletons, pinched in every mem- 
ber with dyspepsia, and with the mark of the 
beast Neuralgia on your forehead, then your 
skin will have a weary time of it, holding 
your bones, and you will be fain to entreat 
with tears the merciful mediation of a mat- 
tress. 



136 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

Now I know very well that those of my 
readers who intend visiting Cuba will be 
much more interested in statistics of hotels 
than in any speculations, poetical or philo- 
sophical, with which I might be glad to 
recompense their patience. Let me tell them, 
therefore, that the Ensor House is neither 
better nor worse than other American hotels 
in Cuba. The rooms are not very bad, the 
attendance not intolerable, the table almost 
commendable. The tripe, salt-fish, and plan- 
tains were, methought, much as at other 
places. There were stews of meat, onions, 
sweet peppers, and ochra, which deserve 
notice. The early coffee was punctual; the 
tea, for a wonder, black and hot. True, it 
was served on a bare pine table, with the 
accompaniment only of a bit of dry bread, 
— no butter, cake, nor dulces. But Mr. 
Ensor has heard, no doubt, that sweet things 
are unwholesome, and is determined, at 
whatever cost to his own feelings, to keep 
them out of the way of his guests, who are, 
for the time, his children. Then there is an 
excellent English servant called John, whom, 



MATANZAS. 137 

though the fair Ensor did berate him, we 
must enumerate among the comforts of the 
establishment. There is a dark corner about 
volantes, which they are disposed to order 
for you at a very unreasonable profit ; but as 
there are plenty of livery stables at hand, and 
street volantes passing all the time, it will be 
your own fault if you pay six dollars where 
you ought to pay three. 

The first thing to be done at Matanzas is 
to drive out and see the Cumbre, a hill in 
the neighborhood, and from it the valley of 
the Yumori. The road is an improvement 
on those already described ; — the ruts being 
much deeper and the rocks much larger, 
the jolting is altogether more complete and 
effective. Still, you remember the doctrine 
that the volante cannot upset, and this blind 
faith to which you cling carries you through 
triumphantly. The Cumbre is lofty, the view 
extensive, and the valley lovely, of a soft, 
light green, like the early leaves and grass of 
spring, dotted everywhere with the palms and 
their dark clusters. It opens far, far down 
at your feet, and on your left you see the 



138 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

harbor quiet and bright in the afternoon sun, 
with a cheering display of masts and pennons. 
\ou would look and linger long, but that 
the light will wane, and you are on your way 
to Jenks his sugar-plantation, the only one 
within convenient distance of the town. 
Here the people are obviously accustomed to 
receive visitors, and are decently, not super- 
fluously, civil. The major-domo hands you 
over to a negro who speaks English, and 
who salutes you at once with, " Good-bye, 
Sir ! " The boiling here is conducted in one 
huge, open vat. A cup and saucer are 
brought for you to taste the juice, which is 
dipped out of the boiling vat for your ser- 
vice. It is very like balm-tea, unduly sweet- 
ened ; and after a hot sip or so you return 
the cup with thanks. A loud noise, as of 
cracking of whips and of hurrahs, guides 
you to the sugar-mill, where the crushing of 
the cane goes on in the jolliest fashion. The 
building is octagonal and open. Its chief 
feature is a very large horizontal wheel, which 
turns the smaller ones that grind the cane. 
This wheel is turned after the following 



MATANZAS. 139 

manner. In* the centre of the building, and 
as it were in the second story, stands a stout 
post, to which are attached, at equal dis- 
tances, six horizontal bars, which are dragged 
round by six horses, vehemently flogged by 
the like number of slaves, male and female. 
This is really a novel and picturesque sight. 
Each negro is armed with a short whip, 
and their attitudes, as they stand, well-bal- 
anced on the revolving wheel, are rather 
striking. Liberal as they were of blows and 
of objurations to the horses, all their cries 
and whipping produced scarcely a tenth of 
the labor so silently performed by the invis- 
ible, noiseless slave that works the steam- 
engine. From this we wandered about the 
avenues, planted with palms, cocoas, and 
manifold fruit-trees, — visited the sugar-fields, 
where many slaves were cutting the canes 
and piling them on enormous ox-carts, and 
came at last to a great, open field, where 
many head of cattle were quietly standing. 
Our negro guide had not been very lavish or 
intelligible in his answers to our numerous 
questions. We asked him about these cat- 



140 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

tie. "Dey cows," he replied. We asked if 
they gave milk, and if butter was made on 
the plantation. He seemed quite puzzled 
and confused, and finally exclaimed, — " Dat 
cows no got none wife" Coming nearer, 
we found that the cows were draught oxen, 
employed in dragging the canes and other 
produce of the plantation. Jenks his garden 
we found in good order, and beautiful with 
many plants in full blossom ; but Jenks his 
house seemed dreary and desolate, with no 
books, a wretched print or so, dilapitated 
furniture, and beds that looked like the very 
essence of nightmare. Nothing suggested 
domestic life or social enjoyment, or any- 
thing ; but as Jenks is perfectly un- 
known to us, either by appearance or repu- 
tation, we give only a guess in the dark, and 
would suggest, in case it may displease him, 
that he should refurnish and repaint a little, 
and diffuse an air of cheerfulness over his 
solitary villa, remembering that Americans 
have imaginations, and that visitors will be 
very apt to construct an unknown host from 
his surroundings. 



MATANZAS. 141 

The second thing to be done in Matanzas, 
if you arrive on Saturday, is to attend mil- 
itary mass at the Cathedral on Sunday morn- 
ing. This commences at eight o'clock ; but 
the hour previous may be advantageously em- 
ployed in watching the arrival and arrange- 
ment of the female aristocracy of Matanzas. 
These enter in groups of twos and threes, 
carrying their prayer-books, and followed by 
slaves of either sex, who bear the prayer- 
carpet of their mistresses. The ladies are 
wonderfully got up, considering the early 
hour; and their toilettes suggest that they 
may not have undressed since the ball of the 
night before. All that hoops, powder, and 
puffery can do for them has been done ; they 
walk in silk attire, and their hair is what is 
technically termed dressed. Some of them 
bring their children, bedizened like dolls, and 
mimicking mamma's gestures and genuflec- 
tion in a manner more provoking to sadness 
than to satire. If the dressing is elaborate, 
the crossing is also. It does not consist of 
one simple cross, " in nomine Patris" etc. ; 
they seem to make three or four crosses from 



142 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

forehead to chin, and conclude by kissing the 
thumb-nail, in honor of what or whom we 
could not imagine. Entering the middle aisle, 
which is divided from the rest by a row of 
seats on either side, they choose their po- 
sition, and motion to the dark attendant to 
spread the carpet. Some of them evince con- 
siderable strategic skill in the selection of 
their ground. All being now in readiness, 
they drop on their knees, spread their flounces, 
cross themselves, open their books, and look 
about them. Their attendants retire a little, 
spread a handkerchief on the ground, and 
modestly kneel behind them, obviously expect- 
ing to be saved with the family. These are 
neatly, sometimes handsomely dressed. In 
this status things remain until the music of 
the regiment is heard. With a martial sound 
of trumpets it enters the church, and fills 
the aisles, the officers taking place within the 
chancel, and a guard of honor of eight sol- 
diers ranging on either side of the officiat- 
ing priest. And now our devotions begin in 
good earnest ; for, simultaneously with the 
regiment, the jeunesse doree of Matanzas has 



MATANZAS. 143 

made its appearance, and has ranged itself 
along the two long lines of demarcation which 
separate the fair penitents from the rest of 
the congregation. The ladies now spread 
their flounces again, and their eyes find other 
occupation than the dreary Latin of their 
missals. There is, so to speak, a lively and 
refreshing time between the youths of both 
sexes, while the band plays its utmost, and 
Evangel, Kyrie, and Credo are recited to the 
music of Trovatore and Traviata. That child 
of four years old, dressed in white and gold 
flounces, and white satin boots with heels, 
handles her veil and uses her eyes like Mam- 
ma, eager for notice, and delighted with the 
gay music and uniforms. The moment comes 
to elevate the Host, — thump goes the drum, 
the guard presents arms, and the soldiers, 
instead of kneeling, bend forward, in a most 
uncomfortable manner. Another thump, and 
all that is over ; the swords are returned to 
their sheaths, and soon, the loud music com- 
ing to an end, the regiment marches out of 
church, very much as it marched in, its devo- 
tional experiences being known to Heaven 



144 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

alone. Ladies and lovers look their last, the 
flounces rise in pyramids, the prayer-carpets 
are rolled up, and with a silken sweep and 
rush, Youth, Beauty, and Fashion forsake 
the church, where Piety has hardly been, and 
go home to breakfast. To that comfortable 
meal you also betake yourself, musing on 
the small heads and villanous low foreheads 
of the Spanish soldiery, and wondering how 
long it would take a handful of resolute 

Yankees to knock them all into But 

you are not a Filibuster, you know. 



THE PASEO. 145 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE PASEO THE PLAZA DINING OUT. 

" As this Sunday is Carnival, you cannot 
do better than drive about the city, and then 
go to the Plaza to see the masks. My part- 
ner's wife, with whom you have now so com- 
fortably breakfasted, will call for you in her 
volante this afternoon, between five and six 
o'clock. She will show you the Paseo, and 
we will go and see the masks afterwards." 

So spoke a banker, who, though not our 
banker, is our friend, and whose kind atten- 
tions we shall ever recall, when we remember 
Cuba. So he spoke, and so it befell. The 
pretty American lady, Cubanized into pale- 
ness, but not into sallowness, called at the 
appointed hour, and in her company we 
visited the principal streets, and the favorite 
drive of the Matanzasts. The Paseo is short- 
er than that of Havana, but much prettier. 

7 



146 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

We found it gay with volantes, whose fair 
occupants kept up an incessant bowing and 
smiling to their friends in carriages and on 
horseback. The Cubans are generally good 
riders, and their saddle-horses have the easiest 
and pleasantest gait imaginable. The heat 
of the climate does not allow the severe ex- 
ercise of trot and gallop, and so these crea- 
tures go along as smoothly and easily as the 
waves of the sea, and are much better broken 
to obedience. The ladies of Matanzas seem 
to possess a great deal of beauty, but they 
abuse the privilege of powder, and w T hiten 
themselves with cascarilla to a degree that is 
positively ghastly. This cascarilla is formed 
by the trituration of egg-shells ; and the oval 
faces whitened with it resemble a larger egg, 
with features drawn on it in black and red. 
In spite of this, they are handsome ; but one 
feels a natural desire to rush in amongst 
them with a feather duster, and lay about 
one a little, before giving an 'available opin- 
ion of their good looks. 

If the Paseo was gay, the streets of the 
city were gay als*o ; the windows filled with 



THE PLAZA. 147 

faces and figures in full dress, with little 
groups of children at the feet of the grown 
people, like the two world-famous cherubs 
at the feet of the Madonna di San Sisto. 
There were crowds of promenaders too, 
everywhere, interspersed with parties of 
maskers, who went about screaming at the 
public with high, shrill voices. Leaving the 
volante, we descend to the Plaza, where is 
now the height and centre of movement. 
We find it flanked on all sides with little 
movable kitchens, where good things are 
cooked, and with tables, where they are sold 
and eaten. Fried cakes, fish, and meats seem 
the predominant bill of fare, with wine, cof- 
fee, and fruits. The masks are circulating 
with great animation ; men in women's 
clothes, white people disguised as negroes, 
and negroes disguised as whites, prodigious 
noses, impossible chins and foreheads ; the 
stream of popular fancy ran chiefly in these 
channels. We met processions consisting 
of a man carrying a rat in a cage, and 
shouting out, « Catch this rat ! " followed by 
a perfect stampede of wild creatures, all yell- 



148 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

ing, " Catch that rat ! " at the top of their 
voices. The twanging of the guitar is heard 
everywhere, accompanied by the high nasal 
voices of the natives, in various strains of 
monotony. In some spots the music is more 
Jively, accompanied by the shaking of a gourd 
filled with dry seeds, which is called ghirra, 
and whose " chick- a-chick, chick-chick " takes 
the place of the more poetical castanets ; — 
here you find one or more couples exhibiting 
their skill in Cuban dances, with a great deal 
of applause and chattering from the crowd 
around. Beside those of the populace, many 
aristocratic groups parade the Plaza, in full 
dress, crowned with flowers and jewels ; — 
a more motley scene can hardly be imag- 
ined. Looking up, one sees in curious con- 
trast the tall palms with which the Plaza 
is planted, and the quiet, wondering stars set 
in the deep tropical heavens. 

But in our evening's programme, tea has 
been omitted ; now, what availeth a Bosto- 
nian without his tea? By eight o'clock, we 
are pensive, " most like a tired child at a 
show," — by half-past eight, stupid, — by 



THE FLAZA. 149 

nine, furious. Two hours of folly, taken on 
an empty stomach, alarm us for our constitu- 
tion. A visit to the cafe is suggested and 
adopted. It proves to be crowded with peo- 
ple in fancy attire, who have laid aside their 
masks to indulge in beer, orgeat, and sherbet. 
While our Cuban friends regale themselves 
with soursop and zapote ice sweetened with 
brown sugar, we call for a cup of delicious 
Spanish chocolate, which is served with a 
buttered toasted roll, worthy of all imitation. 
Oh, how much comfort is in a little cup of 
chocolate! what an underpinning does it af- 
ford our spiritual house, a material basis for 
our mental operations ! In its support, we 
go it a little longer on the Plaza, see more 
masks, hear more guitars and " catch this 
rat ! " and finally return, in a hired volante, 
to the Ensor House, where rest and the bed- 
less cots await us. 

But we have friends in Matanzas, real 
born Cubans, who will not suffer us to re- 
main forever in the Ensor House. They 
send their volante for us, one day, and we 
visit them. Their house, of the inevitable 



150 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

Cuban pattern, is richly furnished ; the mar- 
bles of the floor are pure and smooth, the 
rug ample and velvety ; the wainscoting of 
the walls, so to speak, is in handsome tiling, 
— not in mean, washy painting ; the cane 
chairs and sofas are fresh and elegant, and' 
there is a fine Erard piano. The Master of 
the house is confined to his room by illness, 
but will be happy to see us. His son and 
daughters speak English with fluency. They 
inform us, that the epidemic colds which pre- 
vail in Cuban winters are always called by 
the name of some recent untoward occurrence, 
and that their father, who suffers from severe 
influenza, has got the President's Message. 
We find Don Jose* in a bedroom darkened 
by the necessary closing of the shutters, there 
being no other way of excluding the air. 
The bedsteads are of gilded iron, with 
luxurious bedding and spotless mosquito- 
nettings. His head is tied up with a silk 
handkerchief. He rises from his rocking- 
chair, receives us with great urbanity, and 
expresses his appreciation of the American 
nation and their country, which he himself 



DINING OUT. 151 

has visited. After a short interview we 
leave him, but not until he has placed his 
house and all it contains " a la disposicion 
de listed." We are then shown the pretty 
bedroom of the young ladies, whose toilettes 
are furnished in silver, the bath lined with 
tiling, the study, and the dining-room, where 
luncheon awaits us. We take leave, with a 
kind invitation to return and dine the next 
day, which, upon mature deliberation, we 
accept. 

The volante comes for us next day, with 
Roque, brightest of all living caleseros, fixed 
in his boots and saddle. After a pleasant 
drive we attain the house, and are received by 
its hospitable inmates as before. The inter- 
val before dinner, a tolerably long one, is filled 
up by pleasant chitchat, chiefly in English. 
The lady of the house does not, however, pro- 
fess our vernacular, and to her understanding 
we lay siege in French, Italian, and laughter- 
provoking Spanish. Before dining we pay a 
second visit to the host, who is still busy 
digesting the President's Message. Obvious- 
ly, the longer he has it under consideration, 



152 A TE1P TO CUBA. 

the worse he finds it. He has nausea from 
its bragging, his head aches with its loudness, 
and its emptiness fills him with wind. We 
are at our wits' end to prescribe for him, and 
take our leave with grave commiseration, tell- 
ing him that we too have had it, but that 
the symptoms it produces in the North are 
a reddening in the cheek and a spasmodic 
contraction of the right arm. Now comes 
great dinner on. A slave announces it, and 
with as little ceremony as may be we take 
our places. And here we must confess that 
our friend the banker had rendered us an 
important service. For he had said, — " Look 
not upon the soup when it is hot, neither 
let any victuals entice thee to more than a 
slight and temporary participation ; for the 
dishes at a Cuban dinner be many, and the 
guest must taste of all that is presented ; 
wherefore, if he indulge in one dish to his 
special delectation, he shall surely die before 
the end." And it came to pass that we re- 
membered this, and walked through the din- 
ner as on egg-shells, gratifying curiosity on 
the one hand, and avoiding satiety on the 



DINING OUT. 153 

other ; with the fear of fulness, as it were, 
before our eyes. For oh, my friends ! what 
pang is comparable to too much dinner, save 
the distress of being refused by a young 
woman, or the comfortless sensation, in times 
of economy, of having paid away a five-dollar 
gold piece in place of a silver quarter of a 
dollar ? 

But you, Reader, would like more circum- 
stantiality in the account of this dinner, 
which united many perfections. It was hand- 
some, but not splendid, — orderly, but not 
stately, — succulent, but not unctuous. It 
kept the word of promise to the smell and 
did not break it to the taste. It was a din- 
ner such as we shall wish only to our best 
friends, not to those acquaintances who ask 
how we do when they meet us, and wish we 
were dead before we part. As for particulars, 
we should be glad to impart much useful in- 
formation and many choice receipts ; but the 
transitory nature of such an entertainment 
does not allow one to improve it as one 
could wish. One feature we remember, which 
is that the whole dinner was placed on the 



154 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

table at once, and so you had the advantage 
of seeing your work cut out before you. 
None of that hope deferred, when, after be- 
ing worried through a dozen stews and 
entrees, you are rewarded at last with an 
infinitesimal fragment of the roti. Nor, on 
the other hand, the unwelcome surprise of 
three supplementary courses and a dessert, 
when you have already dined to repletion, 
and feel yourself at peace with all the world. 
Here all was fair play ; you knew what to 
expect and what was expected of you. Soup, 
of course, came first, — then fish, — then meat 
stewed with potatoes and onions, — then other 
meat with ochra and tomatoes, — then boiled 
chicken, which is eaten with a pilaff of rice 
colored with saffron, — then delicious sweet 
potatoes, yams, plantains, and vegetables of 
every sort, — then a kind of pepper brought, 
we think, from the East Indies, and intensely 
tropical in its taste, — then a splendid roast 
turkey, and ham strewed with small colored 

sugar-plums, — then well, is not that 

enough for one person to have eaten at a 
stretch, and that person accustomed to a 



DINING OUT. 155 

Boston diet ? Then came such a display of 
sweetmeats as would exercise the mind of a 
New England housekeeper beyond all power 
of repose, — a pudding, — a huge tart with 
very thick crust, — cakes of yuca, — a dish of 
cocoanut, made into a sort of impalpable pre- 
serve, with eggs and sugar, — then a course 
of fruits, — then coffee, of the finest quality, 
from the host's own plantation, — and then 
we arose and went into the drawing-room, 
with a thankful recollection of what we had 
had, and also a thankful assurance that we 
should have no more. 

A drive by moonlight was now proposed, 
to see the streets and the masks, it being still 
Carnival. So the volante was summoned, 
with its smiling, silent Roqu£, and the pretty 
daughter of the house took seat beside us. 
The streets around the Plaza proved quite 
impassable from the crowd, whose wild move- 
ments and wilder voices went nigh to scaring 
the well-trained horses. The little lady was 
accustomed, apparently, to direct every move- 
ment of her charioteer, and her orders were 
uttered in a voice high and sweet as a bird- 



156 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

call. " Dobla al derecho, Rogue ! Roque, 
dobla al derecho ! " Why did not Roque* go 
mad, and exclaim, — " Yes, Seriorita, and to 
heaven itself, if you bid me so prettily ! " 
But Roque only doubled as he was bid, and 
took us hither and thither, and back to the 
nest of his lady-bird, where we left her and 
the others with grateful regrets, and finally 
back to the Ensor House, which on this 
occasion seemed to us the end of all things. 



GAME-CHICKENS. 157 



CHAPTER XIV. 

GAME-CHICKENS DON RODRIGUEZ DAT ON 

THE PLANTATION DEPARTURE. 

As there are prejudices in Cuba and else- 
where, touching the appropriate sphere of 
woman, Hulia was not taken to the Cockpit, 
as she had demanded and expected, — not to 
see the chickens fight, but to see the Span- 
iards see it. 

Forgive her, ye Woman's-Righters, if on 
this occasion she was weak and obedient! 
You would have gone, no doubt, — those of 
you who have not husbands ; but such as have 
must know how much easier it is to deal with 
the article man in his theoretical than in his 
real presence. You may succeed in showing 
by every convincement that you are his nat- 
ural master and superior, and that there is 
every reason on earth why you should com- 
mand and direct him. " No ! ," says the 



158 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

wretch, shaking his fist, or shrugging his 
shoulders ; and whatever your intimate con- 
victions may be, the end is, that you do 
not. 

Propitiated by that ready obedience which 
is safest, dear Sisters, in these contingencies, 
the proprietor of Hulia takes her, one morn- 
ing, to see the establishment of a man of 
fortune in the neighborhood, where one hun- 
dred and forty game-chickens are kept for 
training and fighting. These chickens occupy 
two good-sized rooms, whose walls are en- 
tirely covered with compartments, some two 
feet square, in each of which resides a cock, 
with his little perch and drinking-vessel. 
They are kept on allowance of water and 
of food, lest they should get beyond fighting 
weight. Their voices are uplifted all day 
long, and on all moonlight nights. An old 
woman receives us, and conducts us to the 
training-pit, pointing out on the way the 
heroes of various battles, and telling us that 
this cock and the other have won mucho 
dinero, " much money." Each has also its 
appointed value ; — this cock is worth forty 



DON RODRIGUEZ. 159 

dollars, this four ounces, this one six ounces, — 
oh, he is a splendid fellow ! No periodal and 
sporadic hen-fever prevails here, but the gallo- 
mania is the chronic madness of the tropics. 
The training-pit is a circular space inclosed 
with boards, perhaps some twelve feet in di- 
ameter. Here we find the proprietor, Don Man- 
uel Rodriguez, with a negro assistant, up to 
the ears in business. Don Manuel is young, 
handsome, and vivacious, and with an air of 
good family that astonishes us. He receives 
us with courtesy, finds nothing unusual in the 
visit of a lady, but is too much engrossed 
with his occupation to accord us more than 
a passing notice. This is exactly as we could 
wish, — it allows us to study the Don, so to 
speak, au naturel He is engaged at first in 
weighing two cocks, with a view to their 
subseqoent fighting. Having ascertained their 
precise weight, which he registers in his pock- 
et-memorandum, he proceeds to bind strips of 
linen around their formidable spurs, that in 
their training they may not injure each other 
with them. This being accomplished, — he 
all the while delivering himself with great 



160 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

volubility to his black Second, — the two 
cocks are taken into the arena; one is let 
loose there ; the negro holds the other, and 
knocks the free fowl about the head with it. 
Sufficient provocation having been given, they 
are allowed to go at each other in their own 
fashion, and their attacks and breathing-spells . 
are not very unlike a bout of fencing. They 
flap, fly at each other, fly over, peck, seize by 
the neck, let go, rest a moment, and begin 
again, getting more and more excited with 
each round. The negro separates them, when 
about to draw blood. And as for Don Man- 
uel, he goes mad over them, like an Italian 
maestro over his favorite pupil. " Hombre, 
hombre ! " he cries to the negro, " what a 
cock ! By Heaven, what a couple ! Ave 
Maria santisima ! did one ever see such 
spirit ? Santisima Trinidad ! is there such 
fighting in all Matanzas ? " Having got 
pretty well through with the calendar of the 
saints, he takes out his watch ; — the fight has 
lasted long enough. One of the champions 
retires to take a little repose ; another is 
brought in his place ; the negro takes him, 



DON RODRIGUEZ. 161 

and boxes him about the ears of the re- 
maining fowl, — brushing him above his head, 
and underneath, and on his back, to accustom 
him to every method of attack. Don Manuel 
informs us that the cock made use of in this 
way is the father of the other, and exclaims, 
with an air of mock compassion, Pobre 
padre ! " Poor father ! " The exercise being 
concluded, he takes a small feather, and cleans 
out therewith the throat of either chicken, 
which proves to be full of the sand of 
the arena, and which he calls porqueria, 
" dirt." 

We leave Don Manuel about to employ 
himself with other cocks, and, as before, too 
much absorbed to give our departure much 
notice. Strange to say, Hulia is so well sat- 
isfied with this rehearsal, that she expresses 
no further desire to witness the performance 
itself. We learn subsequently that Don Man- 
uel is a man of excellent family and great 
wealth, who has lavished several fortunes on 
his favorite pursuit, and is hurrying along on 
the road to ruin as fast as chickens' wings can 
carry him. We were very sorry, but couldn't 



162 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

possibly interfere. Meantime, he appeared 
excessively jolly. 

Our kind friends of the dinner were deter- 
mined to pay us, in their persons, all the debts 
of hospitality the island might be supposed 
to contract towards strangers and Americans. 
Arrangements were accordingly made for us 
to pass our last day in Matanzas at a coffee- 
plantation of theirs, some four miles distant 
from town. They would send their travelling 
volante for us, they said, which was not so 
handsome as the city volante, but stronger, 
as it had need to be, for the roads. At eleven 
o'clock, on a very warm morning, this vehicle 
made its appearance at the door of the Ensor 
House, with Roque in the saddle, — Roque 
with that mysterious calesero face of his, 
knowing everything, but volunteering nothing 
until the word of command. Don Antoiiico, 
he tells us, has gone before on horseback ; 
— we mount the volante, and follow. Roque 
drives briskly at first, a slight breeze refreshes 
us, and we think the road better than is usual. 
But wait a bit, and we come to what seems 
an un worked quarrv of coral rock, with no 



DAY ON THE PLANTATION. 163 

perceptible way over it, and Roque still goes 
on, slowly indeed, but without stop or remark. 
The strong horses climb the rough and slip- 
pery rocks, dragging the strong volante after 
them. The calesero picks his way carefully ; 
the carriage tips, jolts, and tumbles ; the cen- 
tre of gravity appears to be nowhere. The 
breeze dies away ; the vertical sun seems to 
pin us through the head ; we get drowsy, and 
dream of an uneasy sea of stones, whose 
harsh waves induce headache, if not sea-sick- 
ness. We wish for a photograph of the road ; 
— first, to illustrate the inclusive meaning of 
the word ; second, to serve as a remembrance, 
to reconcile us to all future highways. 

Why these people are content to work out 
their road-tax by such sore travail of mind 
and body appeareth to us mysterious. The 
breaking of stone in state-prison is not harder 
work than riding over a Cuban road ; yet this 
extreme of industry is endured by the Cubans 
from year to year, and from one human life 
to another, without complaint or effort. An 
hour or more of these and similar reflections 
brings us to a bit of smooth road, and then to 



164 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

the gate of the plantation, where a fine avenue 
of palms conducts us to the house. Here 
resides the relative and partner of our Ma- 
tanzas friends, a man of intelligent and 
humane aspect, who comes to greet us, with 
his pleasant wife, and a pretty niece, their con- 
stant guest. The elder lady has made use of 
her retirement for the accomplishment of her 
mind. She has some knowledge of French 
and Italian, and, though unwilling to speak 
English, is able to translate from that lan- 
guage with entire fluency. The plantation- 
house is very pretty, situated just at the end 
of the palm-avenue, with all the flowers in 
sight, — for these are planted between the 
palms ; — it has a deep piazza in front, and 
the first door opens into one large room, with 
sleeping-apartments on either side. Opposite 
this door is another, opening upon the court 
behind the house, and between the two our 
chairs are placed, courting the draught. — 
N. B. In Cuba, no one shuns a draught ; 
you ride, drive, sit, and sleep in one, and, 
unless you are a Cuban, never take cold. 
The floor of this principal room is merely 



DAY ON THE PLANTATION. 1G5 

of clay rubbed with a red powder, which, 
mixed with water, hardens into a firm, pol- 
ished surface. The house has but one story ; 
the timbers of the roof, unwhitened, forming 
the only ceiling. The furniture consists of 
cane easy-chairs, a dining-table, and a pretty 
hammock, swung across one end of the room. 
Here we sit and talk long. Our host has 
many good books in French and Spanish, — 
and in English, Walter Scott's Novels, which 
his wife fully appreciates. 

A walk is proposed, and we go first to visit 
los negros chiquitos, — Anglice, " the small 
niggers," in their nursery. We find their 
cage airy enough ; it is a house with a large 
piazza completely inclosed in coarse lattice- 
work, so that the pequehuelos cannot tumble 
out, nor the nurses desert their charge. Our 
lady friend produces a key, unlocking a small 
gate which admits us. We found, as usual, 
the girls of eight and upwards tending the 
babies, and one elderly woman superintending 
them. On our arrival, African drums, formed 
of logs hollowed out, and covered with skin 
at the end, were produced. Two little girls 



1G6 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

proceeded to belabor these primitive instru- 
ments, and made a sort of rhythmic strum- 
ming, which kept time to a monotonous 
chant. Two other girls executed a dance to 
this, which, for its slowness, might be consid- 
ered an African minuet. The dancing chil- 
dren were bright-looking, and not ungraceful. 
Work stops at noon for a recess ; and the 
mothers run from the field to visit the impris- 
oned babies, whom they carry to their own 
homes and keep till the afternoon-hour for 
work comes round, which it does at two, p. m. 
We went next to the negro-houses, which 
are built, as we have described others, contig- 
uous, in one hollow square. On this planta- 
tion the food of the negroes is cooked for 
them, and in the middle of the inclosed 
square stood the cooking-apparatus, with sev- 
eral large caldrons. Still, we found little 
fires in most of the houses, and the inmates 
employed in concocting some tidbit or other. 
A hole in the roof serves for a chimney, where 
there is one, but they as often have the fire 
just before their door. The slaves on this 
plantation looked in excellent condition, and 



DAY ON THE PLANTATION. 167 

had, on the whole, cheerful countenances. 
The good proportion of their increase showed 
that they were well treated, as on estates 
where they are overworked they increase 
scarcely or not at all. We found some of 
the men enjoying a nap between a board and 
a blanket. Most of the women seemed busy 
about their household operations. The time 
from twelve to two is given to the negroes, 
besides an hour or two after work in the 
evening, before they are locked up for the 
night. This time they improve mostly in 
planting and watering their little gardens, 
which are their only source of revenue. The 
negroes on this estate had formed a society 
amongst themselves for the accumulation of 
money ; and our friend, the Manager of the 
plantation, told us that they had on his books 
two thousand dollars to their credit. One 
man alone had amassed six hundred dollars, 
a very considerable sum, under the circum- 
stances. We visited also the house of the 
mayoral, or overseer, whose good face seemed 
in keeping with the general humane arrange- 
ments of the place, — as humane, at least, as 



1G8 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

the system permits. The negroes all over the 
island have Sunday for themselves ; and on 
Sunday afternoons they hold their famous 
balls, which sometimes last until four o'clock 
on Monday morning. Much of the illness 
among the negroes is owing to their impru- 
dence on these and like occasions. Pneu- 
monia is the prevalent disease with them, as 
with the slaves in our own South ; it is often 
acute and fatal. Everything in Cuba has such 
a tendency to go on horseback, that we could 
not forbear asking if dead men did, and were 
told that it was so, — the dead negroes being 
temporarily inclosed in a box, and conveyed 
to the cemetery on the back of a horse. Our 
friend, seeing our astonishment, laughed, and 
told us that the poor whites were very glad to 
borrow the burial-horse and box, to furnish 
their own funerals. 

Dinner was served at four o'clock, quite 
informally, in the one sitting-room of the 
house. A black girl brushed off the flies with 
a paper fly-brush, and another waited on table. 
The dinner was excellent ; but I have already 
given so many bills of fare in these letters, 



DAY ON THE PLANTATION. 169 

that I will content myself with mentioning 
the novelty of a Cuban country-dish, a sort 
of stew, composed of ham, beef, mutton, 
potatoes, sweet potatoes, yuca, and yams. 
This is called Ayacco, and is a characteristic 
dish, like eel-soup in Hamburg, or salt codfish 
in Boston ; — as is usual in such cases, it is 
more relished by the inhabitants than by their 
visitors. On the present occasion, however, 
it was only one among many good things, 
which were made better by pleasant talk, and 
were succeeded by delicious fruits and coffee. 
After dinner we visited the vegetable garden, 
and the well, where we found Candido, the 
rich negro who had saved six hundred dollars, 
drawing water with the help of a blind mule. 
Now the Philanthrope of our party was also 
a Phrenologist, and had conceived a curiosity 
to inspect the head of the very superior negro 
who had made all this money ; so at his re- 
quest Candido was summoned from the well, 
and ordered to take off his hat. This being 
removed disclosed the covering of a cotton 
handkerchief, of which he was also obliged to 
divest himself. Candido was much too well 

8 



170 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

bred to show any signs of contumacy ; but 
the expression of his countenance varied, 
under the observation of the Phrenologist, 
from wonder to annoyance, and from that 
to the extreme of sullen, silent wrath. The 
reason was obvious, — he supposed himself 
brought up with a view to bargain and sale ; 
and when informed that he had a good head, 
he looked much inclined to give Somebody 
else a bad one. He was presently allowed to 
go back to his work ; and our sympathies 
went with him, as it would probably take 
some days to efface from his mind the painful 
impression that he was to be sold, the last 
calamity that can happen to a negro who is in 
kind hands. We now wandered through the 
long avenues of palm and fruit trees with 
which the estate was planted, and saw the 
stout black wenches at their out-door occupa- 
tions, which at this time consisted chiefly in 
raking and cleansing the ground about the 
roots of the trees and flowers. Their faces 
brightened as their employers passed, and the 
smaller children kissed hands. Returned to 
the house, we paused awhile to enjoy the 



DAY ON THE PLANTATION. 171 

evening red, for the sun was already below 
the horizon. Then* came the volante, and 
with heartfelt thanks and regrets we suffered 
it to take us away. 

And who had been the real hero of this 
day ? Who but Roque, fresh from town, 
with his experience of Carnival, and his own 
accounts of the masked ball, the Paseo, and 
the Seiiorita's beaux ? All that durst fol- 
lowed him to the gate, and kissed hands 
after him. " Actios, Roque ! Roque, adios ! " 
resounded on all sides; and Roque, the mys- 
terious one, actually smiled in conscious su- 
periority, as he nodded farewell, and galloped 
off, dragging us after him. 

As we drove back to Matanzas in the moon- 
light, a sound of horses' feet made us aware 
that Don Antonico, the young friend who had 
planned and accompanied our day's excursion, 
was to be our guard of honor on the lonely 
road. A body-servant accompanied him, like- 
wise mounted. Don Antonico rode a milk- 
white Cuban pony, whose gait was soft, swift, 
and stealthy as that of a phantom horse. 
His master might have carried a brimming 



172 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

glass in either hand, without spilling a drop, 
or might have played chess, or written love- 
letters on his back, so smoothly did he tread 
the rough, stony road. All its pits and crags 
and jags, the pony made them all a straight 
line for his rider, whose unstirred figure and 
even speech made this quite discernible. For 
when a friend talks to you on the trot, much 
gulping doth impede his conversation, — and 
there is even a good deal of wallop in a young 
lady's gallop. But our friend's musical Span- 
ish ran on like a brook with no stones in it, 
that merely talks to the moonlight for compa- 
ny. And such moonlight as it was that rained 
down upon us, except where the palm-trees 
spread their inverted parasols, and wouldn't 
let it! And such a glorification of all trees 
and shrubs, including the palm, which we are 
almost afraid to call again by name, lest it 
should grow " stuck up," and imagine there 
were no other trees but itself! And such a 
combination of tropical silence, warmth, and 
odor ! Even in the night, we did not forget 
that the aloe-hedges had red in them, which 
made all the ways beautiful by day. Oh ! it 



DEPARTURE. 173 

was what good Bostonians call " a lovely 
time " ; and it was with a sigh of fulness that 
we set down the goblet of enjoyment, drained 
to the last drop, and getting, somehow, always 
sweeter towards the bottom. 

For it was set down at the Ensor House, 
which we are to leave to-night, half-regretful 
at not having seen the scorpion by which 
we always expected to be bitten ; for we 
had heard such accounts of it, patrolling the 
galleries with its venomous tail above its 
head, that we had thought a sight might be 
worth a bite. It was not to be, however. 
The luggage is brought ; John is gratified 
with a peso; and we take leave with entire 
good-will. 

I mention our departure, only because it 
was Cuban and characteristic. Returning by 
boat to Havana, we were obliged to be on 
board by ten o'clock that evening, the boat 
starting at eleven. Of course, the steamer 
was nowhere but a mile out in the stream ; 
and a little cockle-shell of a row-boat was our 
only means of attaining her. How different, 
ye good New Yorkers and Bostonians, from 



174 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

your afternoon walk on board the " Bay 
State," with valise and umbrella in hand, and 

all the flesh-pots of Egypt in , well, in 

remembrance ! After that degree of squab- 
bling among the boatmen which serves to 
relieve the feelings of that habitually disap- 
pointed class of men, we chose our craft, and 
were rowed to the steamer, whose sides were 
steep and high out of water. The arrange- 
ments on board were peculiar. The body of 
the main deck was occupied by the gentle- 
men 1 s cabin, which was large and luxurious. 
A tiny after-cabin was fitted up for the ladies. 
In the region of the machinery were six horri- 
ble staterooms, bare and dirty, the berths being 
furnished simply with cane-bottoms, a pillow, 
and one unclean sheet. Those who were de- 
coyed into these staterooms endured them 
with disgust while the boat was at anchor ; 
but when the paddle-wheels began to revolve, 
and dismal din of clang and bang and whirr 
came down about their ears, and threatened to 
unroof the fortress of the brain, why then 
they fled madly, precipitately, leaving their 
clothes mostly behind them. But I am an- 



DEPARTURE. 175 

ticipating. The passengers arrived and kept 
arriving ; and we watched, leaning over the 
side, for Don Antonico, who was to accom- 
pany our voyage. Each boat had its little 
light ; and to see them dancing and toppling 
on the water was like a fairy scene. At last 
came our friend; and after a little talk and 
watching of the stars, we betook ourselves to 
rest. 

Many of the Dons were by this time un- 
dressed, and smoking in their berths. As 
there was no access to the ladies' cabin, save 
through the larger one, she who went thither 
awaited a favorable moment and ran, looking 
neither to the right hand nor the left. The 
small cabin was tolerably filled by Cuban 
ladies in full dress. — Mem. They always 
travel in their best clothes. — The first naviga- 
tion among them was a real balloon-voyage, 
with collisions ; but they soon collapsed and 
went to bed. All is quiet now ; and she of 
whom we write has thrown herself upon the 
first vacant bed, spreading first a clean napkin 
on the extremely serviceable pillow. Sleep 
comes ; but what is this that murders sleep ? 



176 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

A diminutive male official going to each 
berth, and arousing its fair occupant with 
u Dona Teresita," or whatever the name may 
be, " favor me with the amount of your pas- 
sage-money." No comment is necessary ; 
here, no tickets, — here, no Stewardess to 
mediate between the unseen Captain and the 
unprotected female ! The sanctuary of the 
sex invaded at midnight, without apology and 
without rebuke ! Think of that, those pas- 
sengers who have not paid their fare, and, 
when invited to call at the Captain's office 
and settle, do so, and be thankful ! The 
male passengers underwent a similar visita- 
tion. It is the Cuban idea of a compendious 
and economic arrangement. 

And here ends our account of Matanzas, 
our journey thither, stay, and return. Peace 
rest upon the fair city ! May the earthquake 
and hurricane spare it ! May the hateful 
Spanish government sit lightly on its strong 
shoulders ! May the Filibusters attack it with 
kisses, and conquer it with loving-kindness ! 
So might it be with the whole Island — 
vale ! 



EETURN TO HAVANA. 177 



CHAPTER XV. 

RETURN TO HAVANA SAN ANTONIO AGAIN. 

Not many days did we tarry in Havana, on 
our return. We found the city hot, the hotel 
full, the invalids drooping. The heat and the 
confined life (many of them never crossed the 
threshold) began to tell upon them, and to 
undo the good work wrought by the mild 
winter. They talked of cooling breezes, 
and comfortable houses, with windows, car- 
pets, and padded sofas. Home was become 
a sort of watchword among them, exchanged 
with a certain subdued rapture. One of them 
was on the brink of a longer journey. He 
had been the worst case all winter, and since 
our arrival, had rarely left his room. A friend 
was now come to take him to his father's 
house, but he failed so rapidly, that it was 
feared the slender thread would be broken 



178 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

before the sailing of the steamer should allow 
him to turn his face homewards. The char- 
ities of the Cubans, such as they are, do not 
extend to the bodies of dead Protestants, — 
for them is nothing but the Potter's Field. 
This gross Priest, that shameless woman shall 
lie in consecrated ground, but our poor coun- 
tryman, pale and pure as he looked, would 
defile the sainted in closure, and must be cast 
out, with dogs and heretics. So there was a 
sort of hush, even in the heartless hotel-life, 
and an anxious inquiry every morning, — 
"Is he yet alive?" 

" Just alive," and for a moment, people 
were really interested. But the day of de- 
parture came at last, and he was carried on 
board in a chair, his coffin following him. 
His closed eyes were too weak to open on 
the glorious tropical noon, and take a last 
leave of its beauty, and of the dry land he 
was never to see again ; for he died, we af- 
terwards learned, the day before the vessel 
reached New York, without pain or conscious- 
ness. And many thus depart. In this very 
hotel died glorious Dr. Kane, having, like a 



RETURN TO HAVANA. 179 

few other illustrious men, compressed all the 
merits of a long life in the short years of 
youth. When he was carried from these 
walls, a great concourse rose up to attend him, 
and when the procession passed the Govern- 
or's palace, the dark Concha himself, the 
centre of power and despotism, stood at the 
gate, hat in hand, to do reverence to the noble 
corpse. A practical word apropos of these 
things. A flight to the tropics is apt to be 
like a death-bed repentance, deferred to the 
last moment, and with no appreciable benefit. 
Not only giving, — everything is done twice 
which is done quickly, — Time and Disease 
having between them a ratio too mysterious 
and rapid for computation. Ye who must 
fly, wounded, from the terrible North, fly in 
season, before the wound festers and rankles, 
— otherwise you escape not, bringing Death 
with you. Do not rush moreover to a hotel 
in the heart of Havana, and falling down 
there, refuse to be removed. Pulmonary 
patients rarely profit in Havana, whose cli- 
mate is tainted with the sea-board, and fur- 
ther, with all the abominations of the dirtiest 



180 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

of cities. Santa Cruz has a better climate 
than Cuba, — so has Nassau, but in Cuba 
there are better places than Havana. San 
Antonio is better, — Guines, Guanabacoa, 
even Matanzas, are all healthier. Best of all 
is to reside on a coffee or sugar-plantation 
in the interior, but to attain this object, 
special letters are necessary, — as before ob- 
served, neither your Banker, nor our Consul, 
will help you to it. 

We find little news in Havana. B. has 
gone to Trinidad de Cuba, — C. has gone to 
New Orleans. The Bachelor who daily treat- 
ed to oranges is among the departed, and 
remembering his benefactions, we wish him 
a safe return and continuance of celibacy. 
Carnival has been gay, — Concha gave a 
Ball, and our Consul plucked up heart and 
went, and introduced eight of our country- 
women, elegantly dressed, no doubt, and not 
speaking a word of Spanish, nor the Consul 
neither, — one of the requisites of an American 
foreign Official being that he shall be capable 
of no foreign language. This rule has been 
rigorously adhered to by the Administration 



EETURN TO HAVANA. 181 

for twenty years past, and in some instances, 
a tolerable ignorance of English has been 
added, as a merit of supererogation. How- 
ever, to return to the Ball, one of the ladies 
performed in Boarding-school French, and 
as far as looks went, they made a decidedly 
good impression. The little English Lords 
are expected, — Ladies, do not flutter so ! 
— it is not the fascinating English Lord 
who has glittered like a diamond for two 
years past on the finger of Washington 
diplomacy. These are Boys, and by all ac- 
counts, good ones. 

There is an Englishman at the hotel al- 
ready, and he quarrels with his victuals in a 
manner that is awful, quite reminding one 
of the stories of unthankful children, whom 
the wolves get. And he labors with the un- 
known Spanish like a ship at sea, and steers 
for this dish and that with undistinguishable 
orders. Though I know him not, I must help 
him when T see him struggling so for his din- 
ner, winking, pointing, and sputtering to the 
waiters without result. The wretch has been 
in Italy, and would make the softer idiom 



182 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

serve his turn here. " Riso, eh, riso, riz, rice" 
says he, with extended index. " Trae el arroz 
al Sefior " comes timely to his aid, and with 
a few more helpings he is fed, though not 
satisfied. So irrational, so unappeasable is 
his appetite, that one cannot help thinking 
he has heard the story of the Belly and the 
Members in his youth, and has determined 
to avenge the injured ganglion of its ancient 
tormentors. 

But among so many faces, remembered 
and sketched with little pleasure, there is 
one whose traits I must record as a labor 
of love. It belonged to one of the recent 
arrivals at the hotel, and was first seen in 
strong contrast with the countenance of the 
gluttonous Englishman, which it regarded 
with grave wonder- Expressive dark eyes, 
fine brows, heavy black hair, and a clear 
skin, subdued by ill-health, were its principal 
points of interest, but such enumeration can 
give you no more idea of its charm than an 
auctioneer's catalogue of furniture can sug- 
gest the features of a happy home. I had 
heard of its owner, but had never seen her 



SAN ANTONIO AGAIN. 183 

before, yet we met somehow like people who 
had known each other, and a few common- 
place phrases ended in a dialogue like this : 
" Are you A ? " — " Yes, — are you B ? " — 
" Yes ; " and eternal friendship, though not 
sworn, set in immediately, and still perse- 
veres. Modesty forbids us to praise our 
friend, — the very epithet " my friend," says 
the utmost we can say for any one. So 1 
must not further celebrate my new-found 
treasure, who from this moment became the 
companion of all my steps in Cuba. I will 
only say that she was an apple-blossom of 
our Northern Spring, grafted upon a noble 
Southern stock, and turning her face now to 
the regions of the sun for healing warmth, 
Readers! you have all heard of her, — you 
would all give your ears to know her name. 
Keep them, you shall not. 

In this pleasant company we sought San 
Antonio again. My friend was not doing 
well in Havana, and the graceful head was 
bowed every day lower by pain and weak- 
ness. But once out of the pent-up city, the 
head rose like a lily after rain, and all the 



184 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

little journey was pleasure and surprise. The 
tangled thickets, the new trees, the strange 
flowers, filled her with admiration. This was 
Cuba. Havana was, what is everywhere al- 
most alike, the World. And soon we came 
to the clear, low-running river, with its greerr, 
bushy banks. And the next whistle of the 
steam-engine, like a fairy horn, called up the 
pretty village, with its streets and bridges, 
its one church, and its diminutive Plaza. 
We walk along the newly paved street, 
lined with small dwellings built of palm and 
plaster. The naked children are playing at 
the doors, the fathers and mothers are mak- 
ing cigars, or smoking them, the soldiers are 
walking vacantly about, and the small shop- 
keepers are looking out from behind their 
dull counters, piled with the refuse of the 
better markets. Here is the American Hotel, 
and just opposite, the eternal piano is play- 
ing " Norma," as it always did twelve hours 
out of twenty-four, and was a nuisance. 
But let me not grumble, for at the door of 
that house stand Mariquilla and Dolores, to 
welcome me back, and, hearing their voices, 



SAN ANTONIO AGAIN. 185 

Norma leaves the instrument pf her revenge, 
and comes out to embrace me. It is pleas- 
ant, is it not, to arrive where some one is 
glad to see you ? These kind people quite 
warm my heart with their welcome. Mrs. 
L. at the hotel, too, is always glad to see a 
boarder, especially if he have with him a trunk 
that looks like staying. So we are feted all 
around, and have the best rooms given us, 
and are happy. 

In the evening, I betake myself to the 
house opposite, which was familiar to me 
in my earlier visit, but of which I now speak 
for the first time. Its inmates are in com- 
fortable, though moderate circumstances, and 
their habits are the type of Cuban village- 
life. Here I meet the accustomed circle, — 
fie! they have no circle, but sit in two long 
parallel lines, and rock, and smoke at each 
other. Papa is a small, slight Spaniard, with 
good manners and no teeth. Mamma is not 
more than forty, — a massive, handsome wom- 
an, with that dignity of expression which is 
beyond beauty, — « she is simple in her dress, 
and quiet in all her ways, but her thought- 



186 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

ful eyes make you remember her. Mariquilla 
is a buxom girl, some thirty years of age, 
who uses ten cosmetics in her bath, and 
still preserves a tolerably fresh complexion. 
Dolores is quiet and gentle, and spends her 
days in taking care of two little motherless 
children, whose father brings them every 
morning, and takes them away at night. 
Maria Luisa, whom I call Norma, is the 
only daughter of the family. She is pretty 
and modest, slight and small, like her father, 
but with fine eyes. She is a great Belle, 
we are told, in the neighborhood, and her 
musical accomplishment is considered prodig- 
ious. Besides these we find Dotor Her- 
nandez, the village Physician, an Aragonese, 
thick-set and vigorous, with a good honest 
face, and Juanito, the Music- Master, a youth 
of eighteen, from Barcelona, with straight black 
hair, a pock-marked countenance, and a pair 
of as mischievous black eyes as ever looked 
demurely into the mysteries of the divine 
art. He is just offering cigarettes to all 
the family. Mamma has taken one, so have 
Dolores and Mariquilla, — he hands me the 



SAN ANTONIO AGAIN. 187 

little packet with : " Te fuma, Hulita ? " and 
seems rather surprised at my refusal, sup- 
posing doubtless that women of a certain 
age smoke, all over the world. One small 
lamp dimly illuminates this family party. 
When music is proposed, two candles, not 
of wax, are lighted, and placed on the 
piano. I sing a song or two, which they 
are good enough to call " muy bonito" and 
then, Maria Luisa, invited in turn, thunders 
through " Norma," from Overture to Finale. 
Oh ! I have not described the piano, — it is 
a grand one, and bears the name of Stod- 
dard. It should be about sixty years old, 
and would seem to have been through three 
generations and ten boarding-schools. It is 
a sort of skeleton piano, empty of music, 
and the rattling of its poor old bones makes 
mine ache. After the Opera, dancing is pro- 
posed. Juanito is disabled with a lame hand, 
and Maria Luisa volunteers to play the new 
contra-danza. It is christened " the Atlantic 
Telegraph," and is full of jerks and inter- 
ruptions, having nothing very definite about it. 
We have learned the contra-danza of Dolores, 



188 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

on a former occasion, but now they all say 
" Hulita must dance with the Doctor," and 
to that consummate honor she resigns her- 
self. That distinguished functionary divests 
himself of his cigar, polishes his perspiring 
forehead with his handkerchief, and offers him- 
self as a candidate for her hand. " Vamos" 
he says, and they begin a slow, circling meas- 
ure, to a music which is nondescript. Quiet 
work this, none of your spasmodic Waltzes, 
kicking Polkas, and teetotum jigmarigs. This 
gentle revolution seems imitated from the 
movement of the planets, or perhaps the 
dance of the seasons, — gravity pervades it, 

— it is a slow eternity. The rest of the 
family group has resolved itself into couples, 

— we all go round and round, and suddenly 
confront each other for a right and left, and 
look delighted, and then go round again. 
This dreamy performance goes on, until we 
have just sense enough left to remember 
that there is such a thing as bed-time. We 
break off, inquire the hour, find it late, say 
that we must go, which occasions no. sur- 
prise. The piano ceases, — the candles are 



SAN ANTONIO AGAIN. 189 

put out. There is a general kissing and 
" Buenas noches, Hulita." Dotor Hernandez 
sees us home. We pass every evening at 
the house opposite, and all the evenings are 
like this. 



190 A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

SAN ANTONIO CHURCH ON SUNDAY THE NORTH- 
ER THE S. FAMILY. 

The least shrub has its blossom, if you 
only know how to find it. The dullest coun- 
try town in New England has its days when 
people hear speeches and get drunk, the 
one act illustrating the morals, the other the 
manners of the community. In like manner, 
the smallest village in Cuba has its Sunday, 
when the imprisoned women go to church in 
their best clothes, the men attend cockfights, 
and in the evening there is ball or sermon, 
according as the Church makes feast or fast. 
The population of San Antonio does not 
seem particularly given* to weekday devotion, 
nor indeed do you anywhere in Cuba find 
men and women praying in the churches, as 
you do in Rome. There is a degree of 
sobriety among the people in all things, 



CHURCH ON SUNDAY. 191 

partly Spanish, it may be, partly the result 
of the extreme climate, — certain it is, that 
the Cuban Spaniard has not, either in pleas- 
ure or devotion, the extravagance of the 
French or Italian. The church at San An- 
tonio was always open, but I always found 
it empty, except on the one Sunday morning 
when I Went thither to observe manners and 
customs. High mass was at eight o'clock, 
and was in all respects a miniature of the 
same ceremonial as described at Matanzas, 
the accompaniment of martial music and the 
regiment being left out. The body of the 
church was covered with prayer-carpets, which 
were closely occupied by kneeling figures. 
The display of good dresses and good looks 
was cheerful and invigorating. There was 
less flouncing and fanning, methought, than 
in the larger town ; but no doubt the usual 
telegraphy was carried on, only in a more 
covert manner, as became the severer exigen- 
cies of village decorum. The priest went 
through his harmless little functions at the 
altar with what seemed to be a calico Dal- 
matique on his back, but we have no doubt 



102 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

that it was a brocade of creditable thickness. 
What he said was, of course, inaudible. Jua- 
nito was at the organ, perched sideways in 
a high gallery, so that his impish face and 
dancing eyes formed a part of the picture. 
Though nearer heaven in his position, he 
looked more full of the devil (pardon the ex- 
pression) than we had ever seen him. With 
him were three young choristers, laboring 
away at the " Kyrie Eleison," — he made the 
fourth in the Quartette, and played the ac- 
companiment, too, losing, moreover, nothing 
of what went on below. The music was 
good, very like something of Mozart's, but 
when subsequently interrogated, Juanito de- 
clared it to have been a Capriccio of his 
own. We can only say, that if it was not 
Mozart's, we shall certainly hear of Juanito 
some day, as a composer. 

The two old beggars who take off their 
tattered hats with such stately humility all 
the week, were here to-day, but did not beg 
in church. Item, they do not chatter like 
their Italian brethren in the trade, but com- 
mence a slow statement of their grievances, 



CHURCH ON SUNDAY. 193 

which you interrupt with " nada," nothing, 
when they walk sadly away. A Cuban gen- 
erally gives them something, and always with- 
out rebuke. In the church was, too, a kneel- 
ing figure of Christ, neither divine nor human, 
fastened to a platform, with four lanterns at 
the four corners, — it is carried through the 
streets on Fridays in Lent for devotion, and 
the priests chant, and bear candles before it. 
Well, Mass is over, and we walk back to 
the hotel, — and here is our pretty neighbor, 
Maria Luisa, watching at the door to see the 
people come from church. " What, not at 
Mass, Maria Luisa ? " " No, I'm so sorry, but 
Papa is away, and Dolores has a cold, and 
Mariquilla has been sitting up with a sick 
friend, so there was no one to go with me." 
Clearly, there is a laxity in matters of religion 
in the house opposite. On the other hand 
public opinion, even in San Antonio, would 
never have permitted Maria Luisa, or any 
other female under sixty to have walked the 
quiet streets without escort, upon whatever 
errand of piety or of charity. Scarcely to the 
bedside of a dying mother might she go, 



194 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

unattended by a suitable companion. We 
pass the remainder of the Sunday in quiet 
resignation to the heat, the thermometer stand- 
ing at 86 in the shade, (say, on the fourth 
of March,) and letter- writing causing one to 
perspire like a wood-sawyer, or a stout youth 
in the Polka. For the nobler sex, there is the 
cockpit, — all the cafSs and billiards too are 
full of soldiers and countrymen, — one hears 
the click of the balls throughout the quiet 
streets. Towards sunset we walk out, and 
find the village alive with little groups of 
people, and the windows of the houses, at 
least the window-gratings, filled with the best 
women in the best dresses. Some of them 
are well got-up. All look cool, easy, and 
indolent. Here and there is seen amongst 
them the glimmer of a furtive cigar. "We 
pass the Cavalry Barracks, once a spacious 
monastery, and see the horses gathered in 
from their wide pasture for the night. They 
obey the voice, and with a little driving, make 
a tolerable charge at the arched doorway, 
and carry it in style. The sense of smell too 
is regaled with the savory odors of the sol- 



CHURCH ON SUNDAY. 195 

diers' supper, and looking in at a grating, we 
see huge stewpans simmering over charcoal 
fires, — the rest in darkness, for it now grows 
late. The men are a stouter looking set than 
the regiment we saw at Matanzas, but the 
horses have not the bone and muscle requisite 
for heavy action, — they could only make re- 
spectable light-horse. Returning home, we 
meet our friends of the house opposite going 
to " Sermon" as they tell us, for this is Lent, 
and not Carnival. Mamma wears a black 
veil, — the others are bareheaded. We have 
still tea to look forward to, but under such 
difficulties ! we have given a dollar for a tea- 
pot which in Boston should cost twenty-five 
cents. Our precious pound of black tea, 
brought from home, has not yet given out, 
but how hard is it to make Antonio, the head- 
waiter, put the tea in the pot, make the water 
boil, and pour it boiling over the tea. Yet 
this sacred rite we accomplish every evening. 
It has the solemnity of a religious observance, 
for where the tea-table is, there is home. 
After tea, a chair by the well in the middle 
of the Court, and a silent feast of tropical 



196 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

starlight. The lady of the house is chatter- 
ing nothings with that queer Californian, 
who looks as much like a spoiled preacher 
as anything. The excitable Carolinian has 
got some one to hear him abuse Cuba, and 
glorify Charleston. Yonder at the left angle 
the flare of a lamp betrays the kitchen, and 
in the next compartment of the picture Po- 
lonia, the slave washer-woman, who has been 
kept at the ironing-table ail day, vents her 
feelings in passionate snatches of talk, shakes 
her kerchiefed head, tosses her arms about, 
and returns to the ironing with more deter- 
mination than ever. Poor slave, — a great 
debt was piled up against her before she was 
born, and the labor of all her life cannot work 
it out. Bankrupt must she die, and hand 
down the debt, sole inheritance, to her chil- 
dren. So the world to the slave is a debtor's 
prison, with a good or bad Jailer, and for 
utmost alleviation, an occasional treat all 
round. And while the cooking, and chatter- 
ing, and ironing goes on about us, Reader, 
you and I will ponder , this, sitting by the 
well, under the stars set an hundred thousand 



THE NOKTHER. 197 

miles deep in the dark velvet of the tropical 
heavens. 

This was Sunday, and with the next day 
came one of those changes which resemble 
in kind, not in degree, the caprices of our 
own Continental climate. The day has been 
a little less genial than usual, still we are all 
comfortably seated at dinner, when a sudden 
wind shakes the house, and blowing in furi- 
ously at the blinds, threatens to make the 
tablecloth fly over our heads. A fierce show- 
er of rain follows, — our table is set in a 
gallery inclosed on one side only with Vene- 
tian blind-work, and through this the rain 
rushes at us like a volley of canes flung into 
the pit of a theatre. It grows dark, and for 
an hour or so, very cold. There is an instan- 
taneous closing of doors and wooden window- 
shutters, and we of the Dinner protect our- 
selves from the wet and chill with the few 
warm garments we have with us, — for is not 
the bulk of our solid clothing laid up at 
Havana in that sea-trunk which we could 
wish never to open again ? We pass the 
remainder of the afternoon under hatches, as 



198 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

it were. The rain soon exhausts itself, but 
the cold wind continues for some days. This 
is the Norther, fatal to yellow fever, but fatal 
also to those who are ill of it, and dreaded by 
all patients whatever. To us, the storm being 
over, the wind is only chilly, bringing with it 
a dull sky, and the desire for exercise, but the 
invalids shrivel up in it like rose-leaves in a 
frost, — the hectic gives place to deadly pallor, 
and the purple hues that mark the orbit of the 
eye come out, stronger than ever. Meeting, 
they interrogate each other's faces with anx- 
ious looks, as if wishing to see what headway 
their little community could keep against the 
common foe. The aspect of the streets is 
changed. The women scarcely appear, save 
where you see the heads of three or four of 
them in a row, looking through the small 
square breathing-hole cut in the window-shut- 
ters, and giving one the idea of so many 
people standing erect in their coffins. The 
men walk moodily about, each one enveloped 
in the dark folds of a Spanish cloak, or capa, 
of which the material varies from fine to 
coarse, but the shape is always the same. 



THE NORTHER. 199 

These solemn, stalking figures so resemble 
the mysterious personages of the theatre, the 
bandits, spies, disguised lovers, and other 
varmint, that we saw for once where the 
stage has preserved a tradition of real life, 
these costumes having been, no doubt, long 
since imitated from Spain, and never changed. 
What crime is this grave man meditating, 
with heavy brow and splendid eyes ? Murder 
or conspiracy, at least. No, he only wants to 
purchase a string of onions at that shop at 
the corner. And this melancholy hero with 
the pale olive complexion, dark as the stage- 
Romeo after he has bought the poison ? He 
enters yonder door to refresh himself with a 
glass of aguardiente, and a game of billiards. 
At the house opposite, Dolores complains of 
"muchisima flussion" — a most severe cold. 
" Is it the President's Message ? " we ask. 
" No, in San Antonio they call the cold { el 
Polvorin] after the powder-magazine that 
exploded, last year, in Havana." We tell 
Dotor Hernandez that he must cure Dolores, 
and he promises her a " vomitivo " next morn- 
ing, the very mention of which considerably 



200 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

hastens her convalescence. The health of 
the village is suffering from the Norther, the 
Doctor has his hands full. Mariquilla must 
give us some account of the sick friend she 
is nursing. " He has a Calentura, (fever of 
the country,) with delirium. They treat him 
with leeches, bleeding, borage tea, mustard 
at the feet ; around the head bread with 
oil, vinegar, and pepper, as a preventive*." 
" Why," cried one of us, " you have seasoned 
him and stuffed him with herbs, fit for roast- 
ing." Dotor Hernandez gravely explains and 
defends his practice. 

While the Norther is in full force, we go 
to pay a visit to Don Juan Sanchez, a man 
of wealth and position in San Antonio, and 
proprietor of large estates in the neighborhood. 
Don Juan is not at home, — his wife, Dona 
Tomasita, and the Tutor, an elderly French- 
man, receive us. She is young, but the moth- 
er of seven children. At our request, the 
nursery is reviewed in the parlor, as follows : 
Enter Manuel, eight years of age, enveloped 
in the stage cloak, and with the utmost grav- 
ity of countenance. He marches up to us, 



THE S. FAMILY. 201 

and startles us by inquiring after our health, 
in very good English. Enter Tomas Ignacio, 
seven years of age, also in a capa, and grave. 
This infant addressed us in French, and took 
a seat beside his brother. He was followed 
by two noble imps, of six and five, dressed in 
the same manner, and with the same decorum. 
These four creatures in linen suits, with black 
cloaks, were positively imposing, and it was 
not until Dolorita, the baby, had begun to 
howl in her mother's arms, and Ricardo, the 
three-year old, to tumble on the floor at her 
feet, that we could feel we were in the pres- 
ence of lawless, spontaneous childhood. Be- 
fore we departed, Dona Tomasita kindly 
placed her whole house, and all her earthly 
goods at our disposition, and we, with great 
moderation, claimed only the right of exit at 
her front door. 



9* 



202 A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

EDUCATION LAST NIGHT IN SAN ANTONIO 

FAREWELL. 

One of our number, visiting the public 
schools of San Antonio one day, found the 
course of studies for boys of very respectable 
extension, — it comprised all the usual ele- 
mentary branches, including the History of 
Spain, such a history of that country at least 
as is good for Cuban boys to learn. For 
the education of girls, a single hour was re- 
served, and into this were crowded the neces- 
sary reading and writing, a little instruction 
in accounts, and the geography of the island. 
My friend remonstrated against this unequal 
division of the spoils of time, but those in 
authority insisted that it was according to 
the rights of Nature, as follows. 

American. Do you mean to say that boys 
should be taught five or six hours a day, and 
girls only one ? 



EDUCATION. 203 

Schoolmaster. Certainly. 

American. Why do you make this differ- 
ence? 

Schoolmaster. Because women need so 
much less education than men. 

American. Why is that? 

Schoolmaster. They have less mind, in the 
first place, and then their mode of life demands 
less cultivation of what they have. 

American. What knowledge do you con- 
sider necessary for a woman? only reading 
and writing, I suppose. 

Schoolmaster. Yes, and a little arithmetic. 
They must fill up the rest of their time with 
sewing, and household matters. 

American. But supposing you were re- 
quired to add something to this small 
amount of instruction, what would it be ? 

Schoolmaster (after some reflection). I 
scarcely know, unless indeed a slight color- 
ing of Grammar. 

Our American, now excited, brings in view 
the good of the race. « Do you not think," 
he says, " that by elevating the organism of 
the mothers, you elevate the intellectual 



204 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

chances of the whole race? Stupid mothers 
will have stupid sons, — the results of culture 
are inherited." 

The master replies that that is not his 
business, but Don Juan, who happens to be 
present, being appealed to, assents, and thinks 
it might be as well if a mother could have 
an idea. So far, so good, but a jealous-hearted 
woman to whom the conversation was re- 
ported smiled to observe how both American 
and Cuban made woman subservient to the 
interests of the race. " And if she should 
never be a mother," said this one, " educate 
her for herself, that she may give good counsel, 
and discern the noble and the beautiful. For 
women are good to inspire men, as well as 
to bear them, and for their own sakes, they 
have a right to know all that elevates and 
dignifies life." And this brings to mind 
another brief conversation overheard in one 
of our voyages. 

Young' Wife (holding up a number of the 
"Atlantic Monthly "). Ought women to learn 
the alphabet, dear? what do you think? 

Young Husband. Oh ! certainly — don't 
they have to teach it ? 



LAST NIGHT IN SAN ANTONIO. 205 

But the time draws nigh for us to leave 
San Antonio. Our return passages are en- 
gaged in the next Isabel. If this steamer 
prove such a Bird of Gladness as the papers 
and her consignees say, then our once weary- 
voyage will become a veritable translation, — 
only three days of sunshine, smoothness, and 
turtle-soup for luncheon, and you land in 
Charleston in undisturbed equilibrium of man- 
ners and of dress. Well, more of this anon. 

But to-night is our last night in San An- 
tonio. We have danced our last contra-danza 
with Dotor Hernandez, and had our last chat 
with Maria Luisa and her mother. Juanito 
was there, that evening, and as we were all 
in a musical mood, he played through whole 
piano-forte arrangements of " Norma " and 
" Lucia," and we all screamed through the 
score, some six notes too high for the voice, 
Papa and Mamma applauding us, and did 
wonders in " Casta Diva " and " Chi mi frena" 
But this is all at an end, and one of us stands 
alone at her open window, and looks for the 
last time on the quiet scene, — just before her 
is the little pasture where the goats pick up a 



208 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

scanty subsistence all day, and where shad- 
ows and moonlight play such wild freaks at 
night. This morning, as she sat at that win- 
dow and worked, two men in haste carried a 
coffin past it. She always sees coffins, and 
sometimes writes about them, — that one 
gives tone to her thoughts to-night. For the 
house opposite is now dark and still, — the 
parlor where Mariquilla embroiders her che- 
mises, and Dolores pulls lint for the sick is 
silent and deserted. The trees stand up there 
in the moonlight, and the river runs among 
its shallows so near that one hears its voice. 
And Hulita thinks : fifty years from this time 
— that river will be running just as it is now, 
and those trees, or others like them, will be 
standing at the angle of the picture as I now 
see them, but where shall we, friends of to- 
day, be ? Dead, or old enough to die. Juanito 
will be a man in years, then, with white hairs, 
scarcely remembering the American lady who 
praised his compositions in church-music. 
The Dotor, Papa, and Mamma cannot be 
alive, Maria Luisa will be a Grandmother, 
and if Hulita lives, her infirmities will make 



FAREWELL. 207 

death a welcome deliverance. So she envies 
that moon, the trees, the river, who can all 
stay and be eternal. She saw the coffin to- 
day, — very like she will see the whole no 
more. Good-night, dear moon, dear shad- 
ows, dear unlearned, unsophisticated people, 
— I shall leave you to-morrow, forget you 
never. 

And the next day comes the bustle of 
departure, and packing of trunks, for we are 
to take the afternoon train down to Hava- 
na. Dona Tomasita sends a parting gift of 
fruit, as much as one man and one stout boy 
can carry. The fruit is as follows : one 
bushel of golden, honeyed oranges, — oh! the 
glory of all oranges are those of this island, — 
the same quantity of chaimitos and mameys, 
and a huge fagot of sugar-cane. We hasten 
to share these good creatures with those im- 
mediately at hand, having lauded Don a 
Tomasita to the skies and paid her mes- 
sengers. What could be carried away we 
took with us. Then came the parting with 
Polonia, who wrung her hands as usual, and 
cried out : " Know thou, girl, that I shall 



208 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

miss thee much." " And I thee, too, thou 
dear old half-mad charcoal figure, — thou 
art human, though black, and canst ache 
over the ironing-table as well as another. 
Let these few reals console thee, as far as 
may be, for the loss of my sympathy. If we 
ever get the Island, I will help thee to ease 
and good wages. 

" But not so to thee, roguish Antonio. 'Art 
thou not free and perfidious ? We intrusted 
a sum of money to thine hand to pay the 
negro baggage-carrier, and to slightly fee 
thyself, and we ascertain all too late, by the 
complaints of the injured negro, that thou 
didst slightly fee him, and pay thyself for 
services never rendered. Wherefore dread 
our coming, or the Day of Justice, by whom- 
soever administered ! ' " 

We have taken affectionate leave of the 
family of the house opposite, promising to 
write, with the remainder of our mortal lives 
as the vague term of fulfilment. A trinket 
or two made the younger ones happy, while 
the whole family solemnly united to bestow 
on me a little set of vignettes of Cuba, folded 



FAREWELL. 209 

fan-fashion, and purchasable for the sum of 
five reals. Not without much explanation 
was it delivered to me, — this was the Cock- 
fight, this the Bull-fight, this the Tacon theatre. 
I received these instructions without any of 
that American asperity which led a cele- 
brated Chief Justice to say: " There are 
some things, Mr. Counsel, which the Court 
is supposed to know," and gratefully depart- 
ed. We walked to the depot, in the hot 
afternoon sun, our smaller pieces conveyed 
on a barrow, and the huge trunk resting, for 
fifty cents, on the head of a stalwart negro. 
— Mem, A negro could carry the round 
earth on his head, if he could only get it 
there. And here came the discovery of An- 
tonio's vileness, — he had had an eighth of 
an ounce, wherewith to pay the carriers. Ac- 
cording to the bargain, as rehearsed to us, 
he* was to pay them a dollar and three fourths, 
which would leave him three reals for himself. 
He professed to have done this with so in- 
genuous an air, that we were a little ashamed 
of so small a fee, and added thereto the 
small remnant of our change. Only at the last 



210 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

moment, when the train was puffing and 
smoking alongside, did the poor blacks ven- 
ture to say that one dollar was very little 
for carrying all those trunks. Our hearts 
were stirred, but the train was there, the 
purse empty, and Antonio out of sight. 
Wherefore, let him, as before said, avoid our 
second coming. 

But there never was a departure without 
an omission. Something you have forgotten 
that you meant to take, or you have brought 
with you something that should have been 
left. Wending your way from an English 
mansion of splendid hospitality, a stray towel 
has found its way into your portmanteau. 
Before you have discovered this, a confiden- 
tial letter from the housekeeper overtakes you 
informing you of the fact, and begging you 
to return the missing article at once, which 
you do for six stamps, with a slight tingle' in 
the cheek. In the present instance we have 
taken nought that was not ours, but we 
have left an article of domestic dignity and 
importance. 

Stranger, if you should ever sit at that tea- 



FAKE WELL. 211 

table in the hotel at San Antonio, with the 
lamp smoking under your nose, and the three 
tasteless dishes of preserves spread before 
your sight, a cup of astringent nothingness 
being offered to you, and a choking stale 
roll forming the complement of your even- 
ing service, — if there and thus you should see 
a white teapot, with bands of blue, that looks 
as if it had seen better days, oh then re- 
member us! For we had scarcely settled 
ourselves in the cars, when a pensive recol- 
lection came over us. It was too late to do 
anything, — we only touched the shoulder of 
our friend, who was as usual intent upon 
palms and scenery, and remarked, with a look 
of melancholy intelligence, " The Teapot is 
left behind!" 



212 A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

SLAVERY CUBAN SLAVE LAWS, INSTITUTIONS, 

ETC. 

It is not with pleasure that we approach 
this question, sacred to the pugilism of de- 
bate. Nor is it worth while to add one 
word to the past infinity of talk about it, 
unless that word could have the weight of 
a new wisdom. We Americans, caught by 
the revolutionary spirit of the French, make 
them too much our models, and run too 
much to grandiloquent speech, and fine mor- 
al attitudinizing. The attitudes do not move 
the world, — the words do not change the 
intrinsic bearings of things. They whom we 
attack, the fight being over, sit down and 
wipe the dust from their faces, — we sit and 
wipe the sweat from ours, — something strong- 
er than their will or ours passes between us, 
— it is the great moral necessity which ex- 



SLAVERY. 213 

presses the will of God. We and they are 
two forces, pulling in opposite ways to pre- 
serve the equilibrium of a third point, which 
we do not see. We must keep to our pull- 
ing, they cannot relinquish theirs. The point 
of solution that shall reconcile and supersede 
the differences is not in sight, nor has the 
wisest of us known how to indicate it. 
Meanwhile, the calm satisfaction with which 
some of us divide our national moral inher- 
itance, giving them all the vices, and our- 
selves all the virtues, is at once mournful 
and ridiculous. Why are we New Eng- 
enders so naive as not to see this ? When 
the representative of a handful of men rises 
to speak, and, alluding to the progress which 
a great question has made in twenty years, 
says : " This is all our doing, — behold our 
work and admire it ! " we cannot but pause 
and wonder if merely that irruption of bitter 
words can have produced so sweet a fruit. 
In this view, what becomes of the moral 
evolution of the ages, of the slow, sure help 
of Time, showing new aspects, presenting 
new possibilities ? What becomes of human 



214 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

modesty, which is nearly related to human 
justice ? 

I preface with these remarks, because, look- 
ing down from where I sit, I cannot curse 
the pleasant Southern land, nor those who 
dwell in it. Nor would I do so if I thought 
tenfold more ill of its corruptions. Were 
half my body gangrened, I would not smite 
nor reproach it, but seek with patience an 
available remedy. This is the half of our 
body, and the moral blood which brings the 
evil runs as much in our veins as in theirs. 

Looking at realities and their indications, 
we see a future for the African race, edu- 
cated by the enslavement which must grad- 
ually ameliorate, and slowly die out. We 
see that in countries where the black men 
are many, and the white few, the white will 
one day disappear, and the black govern. 
In South Carolina, for example, the tide of 
emigration has carried westward the flower 
of the white population. In Charleston, all 
the* aristocratic families have their mulatto 
representatives, who bear their names. There 
are Pinckneys, Pringles, Middletons, and so 



SLAVERY. 215 

on, of various shades of admixture, living in 
freedom, and forming a community by them- 
selves. There are even mulatto representa- 
tives of extinct families, who alone keep 
from oblivion names which were once thought 
honorable. These things are indications of 
changes which will work themselves slowly. 
Noble efforts have hemmed the evil in, and 
the great soul of the World watches, we 
believe, at the borders, and will not suffer the 
sad contagion to creep over them into the 
virgin territories. But where the Institution 
sits at home, with its roots undergrowing the 
foundations of society, we may be sad, but 
we must be patient. The enfranchisement 
of a race, where it is lasting, is always ac- 
complished by the slow and solid progress 
of the race itself. The stronger people rarely 
gives Freedom to the weaker as a boon, — 
when they are able, they rise up and take it 
with their own hands. It is an earning, not 
a gift, nor can the attributes which make 
liberty virtual and valuable be commanded, 
save under certain moral conditions. A man 
is not noble because he is free, but noble 



216 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

men constituting a nation become free. Let 
the wounds of Africa first be stopped, — let 
her lifeblood stay to enrich her own veins. 
The enslaved population of Cuba and our 
own South must, under ordinary circum- 
stances, attain in time a condition in which 
Slavery shall be impossible. 

But our business is with what actually 
exists. We will leave what shall and should 
be to the Theorists who invent it, and to 
God who executes it, often strangely un- 
mindful of their suggestions. 

The black and white races are, by all ac- 
counts, more mingled in Cuba, than in any 
part of our own country. People who have 
long been resident there assure us that some 
of the wealthiest and most important fam- 
ilies are of mixed blood. Animadvert upon 
this as you will, it is nevertheless certain 
that it weaves close bonds of affinity be- 
tween them, and ties of Nature which, 
though ignored, cannot be unfelt. I have 
not seen in Cuba anything that corresponds 
to our ideal separation of the two sets of 
human beings, living in distinctness one from 



SLAVERY. 217 

the other, hating and wronging each other 
with the fierceness of enemies in the death- 
grapple. The Negro cannot be so hated, so 
despised, — it is not in the nature of things. 
His bonhommie, his gentle and attachable 
nature do not allow it. Nor can he, in re- 
turn, so hate. There is a great familiarity 
between the children of the two races. They 
play, and run about, and are petted together. 
We made a visit at a Creole house, where 
the youngest child, a feeble infant of six 
months, was suckled by a black nurse. " You 
must see the nurse's Baby," they all said, and 
the little daughter of the house ran to fetch 
her, and soon returned, bringing her by one 
arm, the way in which their own mothers 
carry them. She was an uncommonly hand- 
some infant, scarcely older than her white 
foster-brother, but greatly in advance of him 
in her powers of locomotion. She was, ac- 
cording to custom, entirely naked, but her 
shining black skin seemed to clothe her, and 
her fine back and perfect limbs showed 
that she throve in nudity. She ran about 
on all fours like some strange creature, so 
10 



218 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

swift and strong was she, and meeting with 
a chair, pulled herself up by it, and stood 
dancing on one foot, holding out the other. 
The family all gathered round her, admiring 
her color and her shape, and the little girl 
finally carried her off in triumph, as she had 
brought her. 

The slave children wear oftenest no cloth- 
ing until five or six years old. They look 
well-fed and healthy, only the prevalence of 
umbilical Hernia shows a neglect of proper 
bandaging at birth, — the same trouble from 
the same cause is very observable in the south 
of Italy. The increase of the slaves is, of 
course, an important test of their treatment, 
— it is small throughout the Island, and 
amounts to little save on the best planta- 
tions. There is now a slow improvement in 
this respect. The repression of the slave- 
trade has caused such a rise in the price of 
negroes, that it is become better economy to 
preserve and transmit their lives than to work 
them off in eight or ten years, leaving no 
posterity to supply their place. Vile as these 
motives seem, they are too near akin to the 



SLAVERY. 219 

general springs of human action for us to 
contemn them. Is it otherwise with opera- 
tives in England, or with laborers in Ireland ? 
Emigration lessens their numbers, and raises 
their value, — it becomes important to society 
that they shall be fed and sustained. One 
wrong does not excuse another, but where 
a class of wrongs is universal, it shows a 
want . of moral power in the race, at which 
the individual cannot justly carp. 

Even the race of Coolies, hired at small 
wages for eight years, and exploitered for 
that time with murderous severity, have found 
a suicidal remedy that nearly touches their 
selfish masters. So many of them emanci- 
pated themselves from hard service by vol- 
untary death, that it became matter of neces- 
sity to lighten the weight about their necks, 
and to leave them that minimum of well- 
being which is necessary to keep up the 
love of life. The instinct itself is shown to 
be feeble in the race, whereas the Negro 
clings to life under whatever pains and tor- 
ment. The Coolies are valued for their su- 
perior skill and intelligence, but as men will 



220 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

treat a hired horse worse than a horse of 
their own, so they were, until they happily 
bethought them of killing themselves, more 
hardly used than the Negroes. Would that 
horses in the North had the same resource. 
If the wretched beast, harnessed, loaded, 
and beaten over the face and head by some 
greater brute in human shape, could only 
" his quietus make " by himself, and be found 
hanging in his stall, what a revolution would 
there be in the ideas of Omnibus-drivers and 
Carmen ! Self-assassination is, surely, the 
most available alleviation of despotism. 
When Death is no longer terrible to the 
Enslaved, then let the Enslaver look to it. 

True, we have heard of horrible places in 
the interior of the Island, where the crack of 
the whip pauses only during four hours in the 
twenty-four, where, so to speak, the sugar 
smells of the blood of the slaves. We have 
heard of plantations whereon there are no 
women, where the wretched laborers have not 
the privileges of beasts, but are only human 
machines, worked and watched. There, not 
even the mutilated semblance of family ties 



CUBAN SLAVE LAWS. 221 

and domestic surroundings alleviates the sore 
strain upon life and limb. How can human 
creatures endure, how inflict this ? Let God 
remember them, as we do in our hearts, with 
tears and supplication. 

We have seen too, here and there, fiendish 
faces which looked as if cruelty and hardness 
might be familiar to them. The past history 
of Spain shows to what a point that nation 
can carry insensibility to the torment of others. 
Yet the Creoles seem generally an amiable set 
of people, enduring from the Spanish govern- 
ment much more than they in turn inflict 
on those beneath them. Nor can we believe 
that even the Spaniard can be a more dreaded 
tyrant than the Yankee, where the strong 
nature of the latter has been left coarse and 
uncultured, or brutalized by indulgence in 
vice. The nervous energy of his race makes 
him a worse demon than the other, while the 
peaceable and pious traditions of his youth, 
turned against him, urge him yet further from 
the sphere of all that is Christian. 

The slave laws of Cuba are far more hu- 
mane than our own. It is only to be doubted 



222 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

whether the magistrates in general are trust- 
worthy in carrying them out. Still, it is the 
policy of the Government to favor the Negroes, 
and allow them definite existence as a third 
class, which would be likely to range with 
the Government in case of civil war. It is 
affirmed and believed by the Cubans that the 
colonial President has in his hands orders to 
loose the slaves throughout the Island, at the 
first symptoms of rebellion, that they may 
turn all their old rancors against their late 
masters. The humane clauses of which we 
speak are the following: — 

In the first place, every slave is allowed by 
law to purchase his own freedom, when he 
has amassed a sum sufficient for the pur- 
chase. He can moreover compel his master 
to receive a small sum in part payment, and 
then, hiring himself out, can pay the residue 
from his wages. The law intervenes also, if 
desired, to fix the price of the slave, which it 
will reduce to the minimum value. Every 
slave has the right to purchase his child be- 
fore birth for the sum of thirty dollars, a 
fortnight after, for fifty, and so on, the value 



CUBAN SLAVE LAWS. 223 

of course rising rapidly with the age of the 
child. Again, a slave who complains of ill- 
treatment on the part of his master may de- 
mand to be sold to another, and a limited 
space of time is allowed, during which he 
can exert himself to find a purchaser. These 
statutes do not seem to contemplate the per- 
petuity of slavery as do our own institutions. 
What a thrill of joy would run through our 
Southern and South- Western states, if every 
slave father and mother had the power to pur- 
chase their own offspring for a sum not alto- 
gether beyond their reach. How would they 
toil and starve to accumulate that sum, and 
how many charitable friends would invest the 
price of a dress or shawl in such black jewels, 
which would be the glory of so many black 
mothers. On the other hand, it is to be feared 
that the ignorance and poverty of the slaves 
may, in many places, make the benevolent 
intention of these statutes null and void. 
Official corruption, too, may impede their 
operation. In many parts of our own South, 
superior enlightenment and a more humane 
state of public feeling may do something to 



224 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

counterbalance the inferiority of legislation. 
Still, Americans should feel a pang in ac- 
knowledging that even in the dark article of 
slave laws they are surpassed by a nation 
which they contemn. Slaves are not sold 
by public auction, in Cuba, but by private 
sale. Nor are they subject to such rudeness 
and insult as they often receive from the 
lower whites of our . own Southern cities. 
The question now rises, whether in case of 
a possible future possession of the Island by 
Americans, the condition of the blacks would 
be improved. There is little reason to think 
so, in any case, as our own unmitigated des- 
potism would be enforced ; but if their new 
masters were of the Filibuster type, they 
might indeed sing with sorrow the dirge of 
the Creole occupation, and betake themselves 
to the Coolie expedient of obtaining freedom 
at small cost. 

Not in such familiarity live the Creoles 
and Spaniards. Here, the attitudes are 
sharply defined. Oppression on the one 
hand and endurance on the other appear in 
a tangible form, and the oppression is con- 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 225 

scious, and the endurance compulsory. The 
Spanish race is in the saddle, and rides the 
Creole, its derivative, with hands reeking 
with plunder. Not content with taxes, cus- 
toms, and prohibitions, all of which pass 
the bounds of robbery, the Home Govern- 
ment looses on the Colony a set of Officials, 
who are expected to live by peculation, their 
salaries being almost nominal, their perqui- 
sites, whatever they can get. All State-offices 
are filled by Spaniards, and even Judgeships 
and Professorates are generally reserved to 
them. A man receives an appointment of 
which the salary may be a thousand dollars 
per annum. He hires at once an expensive 
house, sets up a volante, dresses his wife and 
daughters without economy, lives in short at 
the rate of ten times that sum, and retires 
after some years, with a handsome compe- 
tency. What is the secret of all this ? Plun- 
der, — twofold plunder, of the inhabitants, and 
of the Home Government. And this, from 
the lowest to the highest, is the universal 
rule. We spoke of customs and prohibi- 
tions. Among the first, that on flour seems 
10* 



226 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

the most monstrous imposition. No bread- 
stuffs being raised on the Island, the impor- 
tation of them becomes almost a condition 
of life, yet every barrel of wheaten flour 
from the States pays a duty of eight dollars, 
so that it becomes cheaper to ship the flour 
to Spain, and re-ship it thence to Cuba, than 
to send it direct from here. Of prohibitions, 
the most striking is that laid upon the vine, 
which flourishes throughout the Island. It 
may be cultivated for fruit, but wine must 
on no account be made from the grape, lest 
it should spoil the market for the Spanish 
wines. Among taxes, none will astonish 
Americans more than the stamp-tax, which 
requires all merchants, dealers, and bankers 
to have every page of their books stamped, 
at high cost. Of course, no business contracts 
are valid, recorded on any other than stamped 
paper. To these grievances are added mo- 
nopolies. All the fish caught on the Island 
is held at the disposition of Serior Marti, 
the Empresario of the Tacon theatre. This 
man was once a pirate of formidable charac- 
ter, — after some negotiation with the Tacon 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 227 

Government, he gave up his comrades to 
justice, receiving in return his own safety, 
and the monopoly of the fish-market. The 
price of this article of food is therefore kept 
at twenty-five cents a pound. These compro- 
mises are by no means uncommon. The 
public Executioner of Havana is a Negro 
whose life, once forfeit to the State, was re- 
deemed only by his consenting to perform 
this function for life. He is allowed only the 
liberty of the Prison. One of our party, vis- 
iting that Institution, found this man appar- 
ently on the most amicable terms with all the 
inmates. The Garrote being shown, he was 
asked if it was he who garroted Lopez, and 
replied in the affirmative, with a grin. Our 
friend inquired of him how many he had 
garroted : " How can one tell ? " he said, 
shrugging his shoulders, " so many, so many ! " 
The prisoners chatted and smoked with him, 
patting him on the back, — making thus that 
discrimination between the man and his office 
which is at the bottom of all human institu- 
tions. Of the great sums of money received 
by the Government through direct and indi- 



228 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

rect taxation, little or nothing revisits the 
people in the shape of improvements. The 
Government does not make roads, nor estab- 
lish schools, nor reform criminals, nor stretch 
out its strong arm to prevent the offences of 
ignorant and depraved youth. The roads, 
consequently, are few and dangerous, — a 
great part of the Island being traversable only 
on horseback. There is little or no instruc- 
tion provided for the children of the poorer 
classes, and the prisons are abominable with 
filth, nakedness, and disorder of every kind. 
There is the same espionage, the same pow- 
er of arbitrary imprisonment as in Austria, 
Rome, and Naples, only they have America 
near them, and in that neighborhood is fear 
to some, and hope to others. The adminis- 
tration of justice would seem to be one of 
the worst of all the social plagues that abide 
in the Island. Nowhere in the world have 
people a more wholesome terror of going to 
law. The Government pays for no forms of 
legal procedure, and a man once engaged 
in a civil or criminal suit, is at the mercy 
of Judges and Lawyers who plunder him at 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 229 

will, and without redress. If a man is robbed, 
the Police come to him at once with offers 
of assistance and detection. It is often the 
case that he denies and persists in denying 
the robbery, rather than be involved in the 
torment of a suit. Much of what we nar- 
rate was common to all the civilized world, 
an hundred years ago, but the Cubans do 
not deserve to be held under the weight of 
these ancient abuses. They are not an effete 
people, but have something of the spring of 
the present time in them, and would gladly 
march to the measure of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, were it not for the decrepit Govern- 
ment whose hand has stiffened with their 
chains in it. The portrait of the vulgar 
Queen hangs in nearly every place of note, 
— she is generally painted at full length, in 
a blue dress. So coarse and weak is her 
face that one would think those interested 
would keep it out of sight, that the abstract 
idea of royalty might not be lowered by 
so unqueenly a representation. But this is 
unjust, for what crowned head of the pres- 
ent day is there that has anything intrinsi- 
cally august in its aspect? 



230 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

The Cubans, considered in comparison 
with the Spaniards, form quite as distinct a 
people as the Americans, compared with the 
English. Climate and the habits of insular 
life have partly brought about this difference, 
but it has also a moral cause, — - a separate 
interest makes a separate people. The 
mother-countries that would keep their col- 
onies unweaned must be good nurses. The 
intermingling of the black element in the 
Creole race is, as I have said, strongly in- 
sisted upon by competent judges, — it is 
evidently not purely Caucasian, and there 
seems to be little reason for supposing that 
it perpetuates any aboriginal descent. The 
complexion, and in some degree the tastes of 
these people give some color to the hypothesis 
of their indebtedness to the African race. 
The prevailing color of the Creole is not the 
clear olive of the Spaniard, nor the white of 
the Saxon, — it is an indescribable, clouded 
hue, neither fair nor brown. We have seen 
children at a school who were decidedly dark, 
and would have been taken for mulattoes in 
the North, — they had straight hair, vivacious 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 231 

eyes, and coffee-colored skins, — those whom 
we interrogated called them " Criollos" as if 
the word had a distinct meaning. We could 
not ascertain that they were considered to be 
of black descent, though the fact seemed pat- 
ent. In this school, which we saw at recess 
only, some of the mischievous boys amused 
themselves with dragging their comrades up 
to us, and saying : " Sefiora, this boy is a 
mulatto." The accused laughed, kicked, and 
disclaimed. 

The taste of the Cubans, if judged by the 
European standard, is bad taste. They love 
noisy music, — their architecture consults only 
the exigencies of the climate, and does not 
deserve the name of an art. Of painting 
they must have little knowledge, if one may 
judge by the vile daubs which deface their 
walls, and which would hardly pass current 
in the poorest New England village. As 
to dress ; although I have whispered for your 
good, my lady friends, that the most beau- 
tiful summer-dresses in the world may be 
bought in Havana, yet the Creole ladies 
themselves have in general but glaring and 



232 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

barbaric ideas of adornment, and their volante- 
toilette would give a Parisienne the ague. 

The Creoles then, as a race, do not incline 
to plastic art, nor to the energetic elegancies 
of life. Theirs is not the nature to grapple 
with marble or bronze, or with the more in- 
tellectual obstacles of Painting. One art re- 
mains to them, common to all early civiliza- 
tions, first in history, first too in rank, — they 
are Poets. Not only is a facility for versifica- 
tion common amongst them, but they have 
some names which the real halo adorns. Of 
these, Heredia, Placido, and Milane"s are best 
known. 

This seems a very natural manifestation 
in their case. Held in check by the despotism 
of the tropical sun, and excluded from social 
and political action by the more barbarous 
despotism of Spain, their minds are turned 
inward, and their energies flow in the channel 
of contemplation. For Poetry is the freedom 
of the oppressed, — it is one voice leaping 
up where a thousand arms are chained, but 
the thousand hear it, and take courage. In 
the dreamy tropical life, the beautiful sur- 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 233 

roundings must bear some fruit. Those glo- 
rious growths of tree and flower, those prickly- 
hedges with the sudden glare of a red sword 
among them, those inconceivable sunsets 
and nights without parallel, — these things 
must all write themselves upon the sensitive 
Southern nature, and the language in which 
they write themselves is poetry. How far a 
wider sphere of action may develop in them 
more hardy and varied powers is a question 
not to be solved in the existing state of 
things. 

It does not seem likely that the Cubans 
will ever by their own act abolish slavery. 
The indolence and mechanical ineptitude 
which enter into their characters will make 
them always a people to be waited on. Per- 
haps no nation, living below a certain paral- 
lel, would be capable of such a deed. The 
far-off English, in their cool island, could 
emancipate the slaves in their own Indies, 
but the English dwelling among them would 
never have relinquished the welcome service ; 
nor is it likely that the men of our own far 
South will ever conceive as possible another 



234 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

social status than the present relations be- 
tween master and slave. From the North the 
impulse must come, and however clogged 
and sanded with unutterable nonsense of 
self-gratulation and vituperation of the broth- 
er man, we must welcome it. The enslaved 
race too, gradually conquering the finer arts 
of its masters, will rise up to meet the hand 
of deliverance, having in due course of time 
reached that spiritual level at which enslave- 
ment becomes impossible. 

Sismondi, in the second volume of his Es- 
says, has some sensible remarks on the farm- 
ing system as pursued in Tuscany, where the 
farmer is employed on long leases, receiving 
one half the profits of the farm worked by 
him. Sismondi sufficiently sets forth the ad- 
vantages of this over all other systems of 
leasing and underletting, as it allows the hus- 
bandman a well-being in direct proportion to 
the thoroughness and persistency of his labors. 
After speaking of the apparent failure of Eng- 
lish emancipation, he ascribes the idleness of 
the freed blacks to their entire want of interest 
in the landed property about them, and pro- 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 235 

poses associating them in this way to the 
interests of their would-be employers. For 
the world can hardly afford that these people 
should merely feed arid grovel in the sun, 
when all the tillage of the tropics lies fitted 
to their hand. Nor will it much longer afford, 
let us hope, that the human tool shall work 
without the advantage that individual will 
and interest alone can give him. They who 
thus consent to use the man without his^ 
crowning faculties are like those who would 
purchase the watcn without the main-spring. 

How all this is to end, doth not yet appear. 
The abstract principles of right and wrong 
we know, but not the processes, nor the dura- 
tion of their working out in history. All the 
white handkerchiefs in Exeter Hall will not 
force the general Congress of Nations to decide 
questions otherwise than by the Jaws of con- 
venience and advantage. England as a power 
has never lifted a finger nor a breath against 
Russian serfdom or Austrian oppression ; and 
the Spanish government she is determined to 
uphold in Cuba is reeking with abominations 
of which she cannot afford to be cognizant. 



236 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

I know that God has in His power swift 
miracles of redemption. He can command 
the sudden Exodus of a wronged people, and 
can raise bloody waves of wrath over the 
heads of their oppressors. But we cannot 
call down these wonders, nor foretell their ap- 
pointed time. Meantime, the ram's horn Fan- 
tasias which our modern Prophets have so 
long been performing against the walls of the 
southern Jericho do not seem to have had the 
Divine commission to overthrow them. 

I feel that any one in the North who gives 
a mild, perhaps palliative view of slavery, will 
be subject to bitter and severe censure. But 
this should surely make no difference to us in 
the sincere and simple statement of our im- 
pressions. Intellectual justice revolts from the 
rhetorical strainings, exaggerations, and denat- 
uralizations p£ facts which the Partisan con- 
tinually employs, but which the Philosopher 
and Historian must alike reject. Moral justice 
dissents from the habitual sneer, denunciation, 
and malediction, which have become conse- 
crated forms of piety in speaking of the South. 
Believe me, in so far as we allow personal 



CUBAN INSTITUTIONS, ETC. 237 

temper, spite, or uncharity, place in our treat- 
ment of a holy cause, in so far we do it wrong. 
Believe me, too, that the actual alleviations 
which often temper the greatest social evils 
should not be left out of sight, lest an atheis- 
tic despair should settle on the minds of men. 
The overruling mercy of God is everywhere, — 
in the North and in the South it has its work 
of consolation and of compensation. It ab- 
solves us from no possible reform, from no 
labor for the amelioration of the condition of 
our fellow-men. But as it limits alike the 
infliction and endurance of wrong, and sets 
bounds which the boldest and wickedest dare 
not pass, we must not paint the picture of 
what is, without it. 

So, with thoughts reverting to the slow and 
mighty operations in the World of Nature, 
which seem to have their counterpart in the 
World of Life and Fate, — trusting in the wis- 
dom of the gray-haired centuries, even when 
the half-grown ones call them Fool, I finish 
my Chapter of philosophizing, somewhat, no 
doubt, to the relief of my Reader, but very 
much more to my own. 



238 A TRIP TO CUBA. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

FAREWELL ! 

Farewell to Havana! the pleasant time 
is over. "We are to return where we belong. 
Not with undue sentimentalism of sorrow, as 
though it were greater loss to see beautiful 
places and forsake them, than to have staid 
at Pudding-gut Point, Coxackie, or Martha's 
Vineyard all one's life, having beheld and 
regretted nothing else. When travellers tear 
themselves from the maternal bosom of 
Rome, a pang is inevitable, and its expres- 
sion allowable. Even meretricious Paris 
sometimes harpoons an honest American 
heart more deeply than is fit. But there are 
those, born and bred amongst us, who return 
from their foreign travel with wide-mouthed 
lamentation over the past enjoyment. Others 
snippingly accost one with : " I cannot bear 
your climate," . " Strange," I reply, " since 



GARDENS. 239 

it bore you." We are not so deeply moved 
at leaving Havana, though to go to sea is 
always as unnatural an act as having a tooth 
pulled. The green earth reminds us that it is 
our element, and the slowly counted palms 
nod to us : " Remember, — remember ! " We 
indulge ourselves in a last drive, and take 
kind farewell of the gay streets, the Plaza, 
the Paseo, and the Cerro, with its blue villas 
and palm-bordered gardens. Beautiful those 
gardens are in their own way, — Nature refus- 
ing to be kept down, but excusing her ir- 
regularities by their wild and graceful results. 
There is Count Fernandino's garden, — we 
have not described that, have we? Palms, 
flowers, fruit-trees, a marble pavilion with a 
marble Venus, a bath-house painted in fresco, 
paved with fine tiling, and lit through stained 
glass, an ethereal trellis and canopy of fairy- 
like iron-work, painted coral-red, and hung 
with vines, whose industry in weaving them- 
selves is almost perceptible to the eye, — still, 
shady walks, and evermore palms. We passed 
a morning there with some botanical friends, 
and had much explained to us that we cannot 



240 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

possibly remember. This we did retain, that 
there are known on the island sixty varieties 
of palms, and that this garden contains at 
least forty of them. 

And here is Dona Herrera's garden, which 
we visited one morning, with our friends 
of the Cup of Tea, (vide earlier letters). 
How soft and dewy was it in the morn- 
ing light! the flowers had still the dreamy 
starlight in them. We ran about like chil- 
dren, admiring at every moment something 
new and strange. In the middle of the gar- 
den was a fairy lake, with a little mock 
steamboat upon it, the paddles being^ moved 
by hand. There were gas fixtures disposed 
throughout the grounds, which are lighted on 
the occasion of a fete champetre. What a 
time the young people must have of it, then ! 
There is an Aviary, too, with the remnant of 
a collection of tropical birds, and a small 
Menagerie, with a fox, a monkey, and a 
'coon. W T e ask permission to see the house, 
and our friends having sent in their good 
names, Dona Maria walks slowly out to 
meet us. She is a plain, elderly woman, short 



GARDENS. 241 

and stout, with a pleasant voice and gentle 
manners. She has rather a splendid nest, for 
a bird of such sober plumage, but all its 
adornments are in good taste. She shows us 
first a cool Banqueting-room, where the table 
is invitingly laid for her Ladyship's own break- 
fast, — it is painted in fresco, and opens on 
the garden, — then come the Drawing-rooms, 
then an exquisite Bedroom hung with blue, 
the bed and mosquito-netting being adorned 
with rich lace, then a Picture-gallery, which 
serves as an Oratory, a cabinet in the wall 
containing and concealing the altar. Then 
comes a small room, adorned by her Lady- 
ship's own hands, with paper flowers and 
stuffed birds, lighted by a pretty, tiny glass 
dome, and then, endless thanks, good Dona 
Maria, and farewell forever. For as I love 
npt stuffed birds, nor paper flowers, no, nor 
mass neither, it is not likely that I shall 
bear your Ladyship company in Heaven, even 
should both of us get there, which, while we 
continue to live and sin, must be considered 
as uncertain. 

Other visions unroll themselves as we re- 



242 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

view our Havana days and ways. Our voy- 
age up the spire of the Cathedral, with swim- 
ming eyes and dizzy head. Our friends go 
bravely through it, and ascend even the last 
little rickety wooden staircase, calling back 
for us as the chimney-sweeper sings out from 
the top of the chimney. Where is Hulia? 
holding on to a beam with frantic eagerness, 
deaf to entreaty and encouragement. She is 
persuaded at last to relinquish it, and is 
hoisted, pushed, and dragged to the top where, 
opening her unwilling eyes, she seeks the 
first strong point of masonry, and hugs it, 
admiring the view in convulsive sentences, as 
occasion demands. The point is tolerably 
lofty, and the view extensive, but one loses 
many of its beauties in looking down from 
such an elevation. We must remember this, 
and not ascribe to St. Simeon Stylites too 
great an advantage in the enjoyment of natural 
scenery. Then, after the perilous descent, our 
exploration of the Cathedral itself, with its 
shrine of porphyry, and little other adorn- 
ment, — the pious thoughtfulness of the Sa- 
cristan, who, when we pass the host, tells us 



THE CATHEDRAL. 243 

that " His Majesty is there," and his look of 
amazement when we do not bow or bend the 
knee at this intelligence. Then, that refresh- 
ing season in the Sacristy, with a graceless 
young Sub-Deacon, intent upon extending to 
us all the hospitalities of the church. "Here 
is the incense," — he burns some of it under 
our nostrils ; " here is the wine for the Sacra- 
ment, — taste of it," and he pours out a 
tolerable portion, and, handing it to us to 
sip, tosses off the residue with a smack. 
" Here is the oil and salt for baptism, — you 
won't like that, but you may taste it if you 
choose." And then, he tumbles over all the 
priest's garments. " This crimson brocade is 
for high feasts, — this green for common occa- 
sions, — this black velvet for funerals, — this 
white scarf is for marriages." You really 
begin to regard the Priest as a sort of cha- 
meleon, whose color changes with the spirit- 
ual food he lives on. Rascal-neophyte, you 
will be as sanctimonious as the priest him- 
self some day, and as sincere. 

But all this is in the past, and we have got 
really to our last of Havana. The last pur- 



244 A TKIP TO CUBA. 

chases have been made ; by great economy we 
have accomplished a little extravagance. The 
farewell visits have been paid, — we have paid 
also the necessary four dollars for the privilege 
of leaving the Island. Copious leave-takings 
follow, between ourselves and our long com- 
panions at the Hotel, — follow the Bill and ser- 
vants' fees, — and then, having been waked 
after a short night's rest, there remains no 
further excuse for our not taking the boat at 
early morning, and delivering ourselves into 
their hands who are to return us to our native 
country. 

So, Havana is done with. We are sad and 
sorry to leave it, but do not sentimentalize, 
recalling Sheridan's sensible lines : — 

" Oh, matchless excellence ! and must we part ? 
Well, if we must, we must, and in that case, 
The less is said, the better." 

There is a large party of us known to each 
other in our late wanderings ; and as we meet 
on board, we make a tolerable attempt at 
cheerfulness. But the thought of the North- 
ern cold lies heavy upon every heart, for 
though it is late in March, we know where 



DEPARTURE. 245 

the east wind is now, and will be for two 
months to come. We are soon in motion, 
and, casting a last look towards our sky-blue 
hotel, we see some of the Almy-ites waving 
flags of truce at us. We seize whatever is at 
hand, and make the usual frantic demonstra- 
tions. Farewell, Morro Castle ! farewell, Isla 
de Cuba ! We have nothing left us now but 
the Steamer. This is the Isabel, greatly be- 
puffed in the Charleston papers, but rarely 
praised, one should think, by those who have 
been in her. Breakfast is served us in a 
cabin without ventilation, where to breathe is 
disgusting, to eat, impossible. We explore 
our state-room, — the thermometer stands at 
100° in it, but the day is hot, and we do not 
suspect any other reason for its high temper- 
ature. From these dens we emerge as quick- 
ly as possible to the open air, and get our- 
selves on deck. The Southern seas are always 
detestable ; and though there is no wind to 
speak of, it soon gets rough, and people stiffen 
in their places, and go to sleep, or go below, 
and are never heard of more. Dinner is eaten 

mostly on the upper deck, but the demand is 
11* 



246 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

not large. Iced champagne proves a friend in 
need. "We reach Key West early in the af- 
ternoon. The landing is ugly, and though 
we stop an hour or more, we are expressly 
told " ten minutes," in order that the Captain 
may not be bothered with our going on shore. 
We have here a last look at the cocoa-palm, 
which grows along the coast. White sea- 
corals are brought for sale; many turtles are 
taken on board and laid on their backs, their 
fins being tied together ; also, an invalid in a 
chair, in the last stages of decline. The tur- 
tles remain, for the fifty-six hours that follow, 
helpless and untended. So piteous do they 
seem, that one of us suggests " the last sigh 
of the turtle " as a commemorative title for 
the aromatic soup that is to follow. 

And this is all of Key West. On going 
below at bed-time, our bare feet find the 
floor of the state-room scorching hot. On 
inquiry, we find ourselves directly over the 
boiler, — a pleasant situation in an American 
steamer. We consider ourselves nearer trans- 
lation than ever before, and go to sleep try- 
ing to show just reason why we should not 



THE ISABEL. 247 

be blown up, as better people have been, be- 
fore morning. 

Next morning — Oh let me here breathe a 
word of advice to those who plough the South- 
ern seas. Rise early in the morning, if you 
mean to rise at all, for the sea is quietest then, 
before the wind is up; and if you are once 
dressed and on deck, you have a chance. 
Next morning none were able to get up who 
were not up by six o'clock, — for by that time 
the day's work was begun, and people only 
staid and stiffened where they were. Now 
do not fear, I have described sea-sickness 
once and for all; this paper shall not be 
nauseous with new details. But for love of 
the dear old Karnak, I must show up this 
pinchbeck Isabel ; this dirty, disorderly float- 
ing prison, where no kind care alleviated one's 
miseries, and no suitable diet helped one's 
recovery. On board the Karnak, Steward, 
Stewardess, and Captain followed you up 
with the zeal of loving-kindness. Here, the 
hateful black servants flit past you like a 
dream. If you try to detain them, they vanish 
with a grin, and promising to return, take care 



248 A TEIP TO CUBA. 

to avoid you in future. N. B. — I call them 
hateful, because of the true American steam- 
boat breed, smirking, supercilious, and un- 
serviceable. There, mattresses and cushions 
were plentifully supplied, and you might lie on 
deck, if you could not sit up. Here, not even 
a pillow could be brought. You sit all day 
bolt upright in a miserable wooden chair, 
holding your aching head first with this hand, 
now with that, and wondering that your suf- 
fering body can hold together so long. There, 
the log, the daily observation, the boatswain's 
whistle, the pleasant bells ringing the hour. 
Here, no log, no observation, no boatswain, no 
bells. There, in a word, comfort and confi- 
dence ; here, distrust and disgust. But we 
drop the parallel. 

To us, that dark day was as a vision of fa- 
miliar faces, strangely distorted and discolored, 
of friends, usually kind and attentive, who sit 
grimly around, and looking on one's misery, 
do not stir to help it. There is a pillow, ah ! 
if somebody would only lay it under this 
heavy head, that cannot be held up by the 
weary hand any longer. Henry there is going 



THE ISABEL. 249 

to do it, — he has got the pillow, — no, he 
puts it under his own head, regarding me with 
the glare of a sickly cannibal. One good 
creature flings half of her blanket over my 
shivering knees. I know not her name, nor 
her nature, but I know that she is blessed, and 
worthy of Paradise. Going below for a mo- 
ment, I pass through the after-cabin, and see 
such a collection of wretches as would furnish 
forth a Chamber of Horrors to repletion. 
With tossed clothes, disordered hair, and wild 
eyes, they lie panting for air, which they 
don't get. We are better off up-stairs, and I 
return to my wooden chair and end of a blank- 
et, with enthusiasm. But the day passes, 
and at night we are down again in the state- 
room over the boiler, with the ports screwed 
up, and no air to temper the heat. No mat- 
ter, our weary skeleton refuses to be kept up- 
right any more, — we lie and sleep. And at 
two in the morning, One of the strong-mind- 
ed, who could not sleep, arose, and found 
that the sea was down, and that the ports 
might be opened, only that the man who had 
charge of them was asleep. Wherefore she 



250 A TRIP TO CUBA. 

aroused the slumbering traitor with the whole- 
some clarion of a woman's tongue, and he got 
up and fumbled about till he found the port- 
wrench, wherewith he unscrewed all the ports, 
and we took heart, and revived. The next 
day was all smooth sailing, — - we ate our vic- 
tuals on deck, and were thankful. And that 
evening, say at six o'clock, we made the wel- 
come port of Charleston, and went on shore, 
hoping never to leave it more. 

Let me not forget to say that at the last 
moment, when all possibility of service was 
over, the faithless blacks came about us, and 
were full of hopes that we were better, smil- 
ing and lingering very much as if they ex- 
pected a fee. But if any of us were weak 
enough to comply with their desires, for the 
honor of human nature suffer me to draw a 
veil over such base compliance, and let the 
World think they got only what they de- 
served, which is little enough in any case, 
and in theirs, nothing. 

And now, Reader, if I have one, farewell. 
The Preacher who speaks even to one, has 



FAREWELL. 251 

his congregation before him, but the poor 
Scribbler is left to his own illusions, and calls 
up for himself a gorgeous Public, where per- 
haps he has only himself for company. Still, 
it is safest to imagine a Public ; and having 
imagined one, I here take a kind leave of it. 
If any have followed me along in my travels, 
and wished me God-speed, I hereby thank 
them heartily. If any have treated with dis- 
courtesy a true word here and there which 
does not tally with their own notions, so much 
the worse for them, and for any cause which 
cannot bear sincerity. And so," wishing that 
you might all see the pleasant things I have 
described, and thinking that you cannot have 
been half so weary in reading these pages as 
I have been in writing them, I will prolong no 
further the sweet sorrow of parting, only God 
bless you, and Good-bye. 



THE END. 







' 














• 





r s^ 



&£*© 



&iSS& 



■ 



■ ■ 



1 






War Department Library 

Washington, D. C, 




:mz 



Losses or injuries 
must be promptly ad- 
justed. 

No books issued 
during the month 
of August. 

Time Limits : 
Old books, two 
weeks subject to 
renewal at the op- 
tion of the Librarian. 
New books, one 
week only. 



ACME LIBRARY CARD POCKET 
Made by LIBRARY BUREAU, Boston 



KEEP YOUR CARD IN THIS POCKET 



Zf/ 



